


Back To You

by vanillou



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bottom Louis, Dom Louis, Drugs, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Gay, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Hospitalization, Inspired by Music, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Love, M/M, Music, Overdose, Sad Harry, Sad Louis, Sex, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sub Harry, Top Harry, hl, kiwi, larry - Freeform, larry smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, lourry, one direction - Freeform, sott - Freeform, stylinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 25,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12907413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillou/pseuds/vanillou
Summary: The once vibrant and alive "Larry Stylinson" crumbles to pieces along with the breaking up of their band. As they try to figure out how to be alone again, the two of them get busy writing music. However; they end up rewriting the story of their broken relationship.





	1. "I Call You but You Never Even Answer..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Louis finished recording his latest hit: "Back To You", he is reminded of the reason behind the song: Harry Styles.

"Hello," the speaker sang in the familiar tone he was used to hearing, "This is Harry, leave a message and I'll get to you as soon as I can."

Louis pulled the phone away from his ear. He shook his head in disappointment. However, it was just what he expected. Another lost phone call wasn't a surprise anymore.

"Lou," Bebe called from the recording room, "We're running it again."

He walked solemnly into the studio, pressing the headphones back onto his head.

"Something wrong?" Bebe asked him.

He shook his head as he made a "start" gesture to Michael, who was sat on the other side of the glass. "Just sick of arseholes is all. Let's run it."

So they sang through the song for the thousandth time. This time, however, Louis sang with even more passion than the first. In his head, he was screaming at Harry. He was yelling everything that he couldn't tell him over the phone, as the only voice he talked to now was the younger boy's voicemail.

It wasn't anything new, the dropped calls. It had been an ongoing experience since their last blowout, which was months before Louis had even written the song. They hadn't spoken in months, and for as much as he hated to admit it, it was eating him up. They had once been so close. It's amazing how quickly you can lose something so pure and beautiful.

Seven years, Louis thought. It had been seven years of exuberant happiness, seven years of painful worries and stress. If it weren't for writing music, he had no idea how he would have gotten through losing Harry at all.

Bebe took off her headphones as they wrapped up the last chorus of the song.

"That's the one," she smiled.

Louis sent a half fake, half genuine smile back. He was beyond happy with the track. But even when you're producing incredible music, it's hard to look past the reason you're singing.

As he left the recording studio, he looked down at his phone. Nothing. Not that he expected anything from the boy, but he sure was hoping for something. Anything, really. He'd called Harry maybe sixteen times throughout the months post-breakup, but had yet to hear anything back.

Above it all, he was heartbroken. He hated to even think of the word, but he felt it none the less. Their relationship had been slowly deteriorating ever since the god forsaken management had come up with the biggest load of "bullshit" of all- a baby. They had gotten through so much of it together. The false relationships, inaccurate tweets, even the physical separation of the two. However once a child was thrown into the mix, it all became too real.

Louis slumped into his rather messy apartment. He tossed his green rain jacket onto the lounge chair and found himself accepting the comfort of his leather couch. 

His thumb scrolled through the many tweets that littered his phone screen. A familiar face popped up in a video, which he dared to click on.

"I'm really excited to release the album," Harry smiled. His cheekbones could cut through the glass phone screen, which Louis wished they would. It killed him that Harry looked so damn good. It wasn't fair that his fashion sense had gotten even better. 

Looking down at his own ensemble, Louis grunted out of jealousy and frustration. He threw his phone beside him on the couch and burrowed his face into the threadbare pillow next to him. He found himself screaming into the cotton, which didn't muffle the sound too much. 

He didn't know what he wanted. He did know that he was in pain. One of the worst pains he had felt in his life. It was as if he was awake in the middle of heart surgery, where the handsome Harry Styles was the one performing it, slicing a scalpel right into his beating heart. 

"Why can't you just speak to me," Louis cried. He would do anything, even if it was just to hear Harry tell him to fuck off again. At least Harry would be making some sort of effort.

"Yeah, um" Harry's voice sounded through the phone. "It's kind of a mashup of my head. You know, all the things that have happened, and all the ways I think about those things. I'm real excited for the fans to have a taste of my brain."

For once the fans would know Harry just as much as Louis did. And that absolutely gutted him. He had spent a plethora of years building a relationship of trust and love that had been torn away from him in the blink of an eye.

Louis' single would debut in a little over a month. He hoped the world would like it. Most of all, he hoped Harry would hate it. He hoped that Harry would know in an instant that it was about him, that all the subtle references were a jab to their disaster of a relationship.

Just then, as his head hid inside the cloth of his throw pillow, his phone buzzed beside him. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He sprung up quickly and grabbed at his device. 

To his disappointment, it was Michael.

"Yeah mate, you have a visitor at the studio. Told em they barely missed you, but they asked me to see how far away you were. It's one of your old bandmates."

Louis felt the hope fly up from deep in his stomach. 

"Just left, turning around now." He said into the phone, hanging up. He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, not even stopping to lock it behind him. 

He prayed that it was Harry. He then realized how idiotic it was for him to pray Harry come see him. So he prayed some more.


	2. Kiwi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on the breaking point of their relationship; the dreaded "baby gate". Harry is torn apart by the rather disgusting management move, but, it's none of his business.

**SEVERAL MONTHS PRIOR... ******

********

********

Harry sat in a desk chair in a silent hotel room. His foot violently tapped as he waited. What on earth was taking Louis so long? It had been two hours since he had left to take a call. Their relationship had become a constant waiting game. It was always to speak to someone about a baby, or about Brianna, or about god knows what. 

His eyes scraped at his twitter timeline. It was fluttered with fans going on about the baby. He was a grown man, but damn it, he was jealous of a baby. Suddenly, all the attention was on this child that didn't belong to anybody. It was all a fabrication that everyone believed, and although it was silly, he was beginning to believe it all too.

He knew full well that the baby wasn't Louis'. They had been sat in a meeting months before discussing management's latest fabrication of "Freddie". 

"I don't want to go through with this," Louis would tell them. But his words meant nothing to them. Anything to keep the running gag going. 

Harry couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why on earth a management company would spend so much time and effort creating a false front in order to save face. It was 2017, being in a gay relationship would probably benefit their fanbase. 

After Zayn left the band, things had gotten out of control. He had left the band months before he publicly left, leaving their management in a panic to distract the fans. Their focus on keeping Harry and Louis' relationship a secret had become a more desperate plan of secrecy. 

That's when Brianna came along. God, Harry _hated _Brianna. One of their body guards had an older niece who had become enamored with Louis. They'd begun talking so often that Harry found himself unnervingly jealous, which management caught onto right away. Their management team took advantage of the opportunity without a second glance.__

____

____

Several meetings later, Brianna was "pregnant" with Louis' supposed child. 

Although Louis was reluctant to the whole plan, he had no choice but to go along with the whole ordeal. However, he suddenly became less and less annoyed with the idea of having a child, and began to have fun with the story. He started to look forward to photoshoots and discussions of baby names and diapers. After all, it was better to enjoy the shitty management ploys than to mope over them.

As Harry sat there, brewing in his hotel desk chair, the hotel door key made a beep. It flung open to reveal Louis, holding none other than a nearly newborn child in his arms.

"Freddie, say hello to our very special friend!" Louis cheered, holding the tiny hand of the baby. His eyes smiled up to view Harry, which made the smile on his face vanish.

"What is this?" Harry demanded.

Louis bounced Freddie on his hip. "This," he looked back at the child, "Is little baby Freddie. Wanna hold him?"

Harry stood up out of his chair ferociously.

"No I don't want to hold him!"

The baby began to cry in Louis' arms. 

"Harry, calm down."

Those were not the right words.

Harry opened his mouth, but shut it quickly. He began to storm past Louis in a furious rage. 

"Harry, come back here! Harry!" Louis barked. As Harry stomped out of the room, Louis followed him as quickly as he could with a baby on his hip.

"I'm done with this, Louis." Harry said, keeping a fast pace, his eyes staring at the elevator at the end of the hall. "I'm not pretending you have a god damn child."

Louis scoffed. 

"You think either of us have the right to decide that, Harry?"

Harry stopped. He turned around and began to walk back towards a frightened Louis.

"Yeah," He cursed, _"I do." ___

____

____

He made his way over to Louis, stopping about a foot away from him. 

"Now you have a choice, Louis." Harry shook his head. "You take that thing back where you got it from and never bring it near me again." 

Louis opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Harry's angry tone.

"Or," Harry continued, "You let me walk away for the last god damn time."

Eyes flushed with tears, Louis shook his head. "I can't do that, Harry, you know that."

Harry's face was painted a bright red color. His fists were clenched to the point where his fingernails were cutting deep into his own palms. 

"You can Louis! You can demand your own happiness! You can walk away from this whole thing, because I would walk away with you!" Harry screamed. "I would be damn ecstatic to walk away with you."

Freddie began to wail and fidget in Louis' arms. 

"You act like it's that easy," Louis bit back, "That I can simply 'walk away'. You think I would have stayed here through all this bullshit if I didn't have to? Harry, we lose the band if we fuck up. You want to do that to the rest of em? Huh? You wanna be like Zayn?"

Harry took deep offense to those words. He looked down, chuckled, and looked back up, his eyes swollen with tears. 

"No, Louis. No I don't."

Harry turned around and set off down the long corridor of the hotel. Louis called his name repeatedly. 

Harry never turned back around.

The hotel bar smelled strongly of cologne and brandy. Harry sat himself down at the farthest end of the bar, ordering himself a vodka tonic. He fidgeted with some fake oranges in a bright blue bowl in front of him. 

"That was rather dramatic," a woman's voice said as she sat down beside him. Harry turned his face to find a small, blonde headed, rose smelling bitch. 

Harry groaned as he downed his entire drink. 

"You know this is the way it has to be, Harry," Brianna scolded, "You're too old to be throwing fits over things that are out of your control."

Harry's stomach burned with fury. He hated hearing her, of all people, tell him what he can and cannot feel. 

"Brianna," Harry said as calmly as he could, "Leave me alone."

"You made my son cry, you know that?" She said. "He wouldn't quit sobbing. You scared my boy, which is not okay with me."

"He's not your son." Harry barked. It was getting harder and harder to keep his temper.

"It's none of your business!" Brianna yelled. A majority of the hotel guests turned their heads at the sudden raise in volume.

The bartender approached them, asking them to be quiet. 

"That's just fine, I'll be leaving anyways," Brianna snarled, "The father of my son needs me."

As she grabbed her purse and trotted away, Harry turned to watch her leave. He caught a glimpse of Louis waiting for her behind a glass partition between the bar and the lobby. Freddie was sat in his arms. Brianna pulled a pack of Newports from her purse, flicking a cigarette into her mouth, and then into Louis'. Louis' eyes grabbed hold of Harry's for a second. It stabbed Harry deep in the gut when it was broken by Brianna's blonde hair as the three of them walked away.

"Another one," Harry ordered the bartender, who quickly filled up his glass.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. From the Dining Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall brings vital information about Harry to Louis' attention, which fills Louis with a curious sadness. On Harry's end, his time with a woman is interrupted by a familiar voice.

**BACK AT THE RECORDING STUDIO... ******

********

********

Louis rushed into room 18, which was where he had been recording "Back To You" just minutes before. His heart rapidly thud in his chest as he awaited to see his band mate. 

As the door swung open, he walked into the studio to find Niall sitting on a stool strumming on an old acoustic guitar.

_Oh. ___

____

____

"Louis!" Niall said, setting the guitar down to hug his mate. 

Louis hugged him back, genuinely happy to see his friend. 

"How've you been?" Niall queried.

Louis smiled as they split apart. He shrugged, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing left his tongue. Niall's face transformed from excited to worried in about 1.2 seconds. 

"Still no word from Harry, eh?"

Louis shook his head. Niall had always been purely interested in the other's lives, always keeping in touch and lending an ear whenever it was needed. And honestly? Louis desperately needed it. Harry was eating through his brain like a bowl of soup, and he felt as if it was on the brink of explosion.

"Well," Niall began, picking the guitar back up, "No use being upset. His loss, anyways. I heard the track, it's fucking brilliant, Lou."

An honest smile reappeared on Louis' face.

"You think so?"

"I mean," Niall began, "It's nothing compared to our rendition of 'Back To You'," he joked, making a reference to the old One Direction tune, "but it's great none the less."

As the two caught up, they discussed their several different ventures. All five of the past band mates had found their ways into recording studios, putting their untapped talent into separate tapes. They had all finally broken out of the chains that One Direction kept them in. Each of them were producing brilliant music, each one just as incredible as the last.

"Do you know," Louis started, "Is he putting out any music? I know he always wanted to, but, again, he hasn't really, uh, I haven't heard much from the lad."

"He'll be puttin' an album out within the week, actually," Niall said, swallowing a bite of food.

Louis' stomach flopped in its place. For one, he was incredibly curious about what the album would entail. Second, he felt a pang of envy towards Niall, as he had obviously been in recent contact with Harry. It further canceled the assumption that Harry's phone didn't work, which would have been an explanation to the dropped calls, but no. Harry was deliberately ignoring Louis' calls as they popped up on his screen.

"End of the week?" Louis asked.

Niall nodded. "Yeah. You gonna listen to it?"

Thoughts kept rolling into Louis' head like pebbles falling down a waterfall. Of course he wanted to listen to the album, but there was something about Harry's voice that killed him. Even recordings from interviews left Louis yearning to hear Harry's voice in person again. It was a special kind of knife that cut deep into his abdomen: hearing the angelic tone of Harry Styles.

**ABOUT FOUR MONTHS PRIOR... ******

********

********

"Shh," Harry cooed as he plunged into his flat, "The neighbors are incredibly nosy."

He had a girl in his arms that couldn't quit moaning at every kiss Harry planted on her neck. He shoved his body against hers with a brilliant passion, pressing her body flush against the wall the separated the kitchen from the hallway. 

"Please Harry," She begged, "T-Take me to the table."

With a sly grin on his face, Harry swept her up off her feet. She wrapped her rather long legs around his hips as he stumbled over into the dining room.

Her body crashed onto the table, creating a loud thud. They giggled into each other's smiles as they kissed over and over again.

His fingers slid under the bottom of her shirt, slowly pulling the fabric into his grip. He cautiously removed her loose fitting tee, revealing a light blue bra with a tiny pink bow in the middle. It cupped her breasts quite nicely, which really impressed Harry.

Being with girls was like taking a swig from an expensive bottle of wine, for Harry. It wasn't exactly his preferred drink of choice, but it felt nice none the less. She was a fine bottle of wine, too. Her hair was a dark tinge of red that captured her vibrant personality just as much as her underwear matched the table cloth on the dining table.

He pressed elegant kisses down her neck, slowly proceeding to the plush of her breasts. Her breath became shaky in an instant as he continued kissing down the rest of her gloriously curvy body. 

With his fingers coiled into the belt strap of her jeans, he began to tug at them. 

"Harry," She moaned, "Button."

"Oh," he giggled, "right."

He unbuttoned and unzipped her trousers. His dick pulsed in his pants as he prepared to rip the denim off of her legs, until-

_Buzz, buzz. ___

____

____

"Sorry," he stopped, looking up at her from his place in between her legs, "no phones at the dinner table." Harry teased, a smug smirk spread across his cheeks.

She laughed as she sat up, pulling her phone out of the back of her pocket. Her smile turned into a dull look of confusion.

"Not me," she said.

He pulled back, taking his phone out of his pocket to look. 

A familiar number flashed on the screen. He had deleted the contact weeks before, but it didn't matter. He had memorized the number long before he had had the chance to forget it.

Before he had a chance to decide, she had grabbed the phone out of his hand and thrown it onto the table behind her. He thoroughly enjoyed the sense of control she had thrust onto him, leaving him craving more. He leapt towards her, sending her body back onto the wooden table.

"Oh Harry," she moaned. 

He wrapped his fingers around her belt loops once more and tugged them down. Before they had reached the crook of her knees, they were interrupted by a familiar voice playing through the speaker of his phone, which was trapped beneath her naked back and the wooden table.

"Helloooo Harry," Louis drunkenly slurred through the phone. Harry slowly pulled his face away from the woman's lap, feeling an intense wave of guilt. He his his face low to his chest, the woman watching him in confusion. 

The older lad's mental state was obviously compromised. His words slurred into one the more he spoke, but Harry understood every word, as he had had plenty of practice with drunk Louis.

"I- I woke up alone in this retched hotel room today," Louis' voice sang, "And though there was a lad sat beside me, I played with myself while he slept. Haha, take that old man. I wish it was you. Where were you, Harry?"

Harry shivered. Louis' voice began shaking the more he spoke, indicating that he wasn't okay. The woman in front of him quickly swiped the phone from behind her back, throwing it at Harry. She seemed more worried than angry, but was definitely some sort of uneven mix of the two. She quickly redressed her self and made for the door.

It wasn't worth trying to stop her from leaving. In fact, he was kind of relieved that she left. 

"God, listen to me," Louis said, "I've never felt less cool."

Harry quickly pressed a button to quit the voicemail from playing. He couldn't bare to listen to Louis like that. He felt something crash deep inside his stomach. His head fell into his hands as he sobbed violently. He hadn't broken down like that since leaving Louis, and it felt awful. It was a never ending pain. It was as if the numbing agent had finally worn off, creating a catastrophic hurricane of absolute misery.

So, he wobbled over the the kitchen, pulling open a few drawers until he found what he wanted. He pulled a red notebook out from the drawer, and rummaged through it until he had found a pen. 

And he began writing.


	4. "Gotta Get Better..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a celebrity comes with new experiences, which can be rather harmful. For Harry, he gets involved with an enticing drug, leading him to believe he sees Louis at a performance. Hallucinations can be crazy, and bring about unpleasant memories. But it's just a hallucination- right?

**TWO DAYS LATER - A PARTY IN LONDON ******

********

********

Harry stared down at the white powder below him. It had become so familiar to him, so comfortable. Around him sat his best friends- Alonzo, Rebekah, and Jaden. They were rather new to him, but were among the only people he truly partied with.

The four of them spent most of the nights partying. They were all always on the same substance, whether that be morphine, coke, or just plain old alcohol. Tonight's cocktail was cocaine, which Harry preferred over the other mind altering substances. 

He rolled up a dollar and sniffed hard. As the coke rolled through his nostrils, he blinked violently. It slowly sunk into his body, feeling it pump through his veins. Suddenly the world was 20x more exciting. Colors were brighter, voices were sweeter, and sea salt and vinegar chips were tangier. 

The party around them seemed to be a faint background noise. Nobody could have possibly known every person there. It was a larger, upscale penthouse apartment in the northern part of London. Harry knew his friends, and that was about it.

Rebekah wrapped her arm around Harry. 

"This night," She said, her eyes wide and pupils black, "Will be the best one. Ever." She then let out of her typical "woo"s as she placed a green and pink flower crown on Harry's head. 

He stood up from his criss crossed arrangement and began to wander the party. People were taking shots off of every orifice available to man. A group of women hollered at him in high pitched tones, signaling for him to take a shot off of one of their bare tits, which he did. 

The young woman's eyes widened when she saw who exactly was licking alcohol off her chest. She grabbed his curls into her fist and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. 

He eventually broke her off of his face, making his way back into the colorful sea of random strangers. 

"Harry!" Jaden called.

Harry turned around. Jaden grabbed him by the upper arm and tugged him. 

The two walked quickly towards a platform. Jaden shoved Harry up onto the stage, where he stood in front of a microphone.

The room moved in waves in front of him. There were lights, music, and faces that all merged into one brilliant image. He smiled brightly at the scene in front of him. 

Jaden shoved his face in front of the mic. 

"Can I have everyone's attention, please!"

The crowd hollered a little louder, noticing Harry upon the stage.

"May I introduce to you," Jaden spoke louder, "The one and only, Harry Styles!"

Harry inched his head in closer to the mic to mutter a "hello".

Jaden began talking once more. Before he knew it, Harry was singing his newest single, "Sign of The Times," to a crowd of a few hundred people. It was just like what he was used to doing; performing. He hadn't performed in a while. Maybe it was just the cocaine, but it felt mysteriously refreshing to sing to an audience again.

Being on drugs made performing more significant to Harry. It was easier to see and feel the music. As he sang the lyrics he had written months before, he reimagined himself writing the words down onto an old napkin. The drugs enhanced the images that flipped through his mind like playing cards. 

Suddenly, Louis' face stood out to him in between the large sum of people. 

He blinked twice, clearing his eyesight. Louis' face disappeared. He blinked again. 

There he was. 

Louis was in the middle of the crowd, staring right back at him.

"We don't talk enough," He sang, eyes interlocked with Louis'.

"We should open up," He shouted, blinking again. Louis' face disappeared again, reminding Harry that he was high on cocaine, and that things like that did happen. 

He always saw Louis, even when he was sober. He couldn't tell if it was like a recurring nightmare or like a wonderful dream through each day. At the grocery store: Louis. On the radio: Louis. In his bed: _Louis. ___

____

____

The song came to an end, creating hysteria in the crowd. Sweat slipped down his cheeks in pill sized drops as he stepped away from the lights.

A dizzy, disoriented, high off his ass Harry wiggled through the crowd. He shoved person after person aside until he found his way into a bathroom. Hands on the sink, he looked up into the mirror. His eyes were so dilated that the green encircling his pupils was nearly invisible. He fished a small bottle out of his pocket, dumping the contents onto his palm. In a swift move, he sniffed all the powder up his nose. As the substance went up, he felt his energy sky rocket. He looked back into the mirror, amazed by the ocean like orbs in his eyes. He was writing a thousand songs in his head as the effects inclined.

Just then, the door swung open. Harry's head snapped right, looking at the person coming into the door. He quickly wiped the drug off his nose, leaving a trail of white on his red sleeve. 

A blurry figure stared up at Harry. It took Harry a second to recognize a face through the fog as the drug swept over him. He placed his dusty hands on either side of the man's face, yanking him close as he kissed the stranger passionately. 

The man in front of Harry quickly slapped him in the face, turning around to walk away. It was then that Harry realized that it wasn't Louis that he had just snogged. Disappointment punched him in the stomach as he turned around to look at himself again.

He smiled at his image in the mirror, only to unexpectedly vomit all over the sink in front of him. It stung at his throat, burning as it came up over and over again. His body hurled forward as he violently puked out the concoction of cocaine, biscuits, and Jack Daniels. After about three bouts of vomiting, it finally subsided. He began to laugh at himself. His laughs then turned into a mixture cries and curses. 

Wiping off his tears and coke filled nostrils, Harry left the restroom. As he walked through the sea of intoxicated individuals, he let himself enjoy the waves of pleasure that flooded his high brain. The music around him was something like tiny arms tugging on his legs and head, forcing him to move to the beat. He began to flail about the room, dancing like a maniac. The people around him thoroughly enjoyed his rather embarrassing dance moves.

_"Harry?" _A small voice cried out through the loud lumping music, "Harry, is that you?"__

____

____

Harry widely opened his eyes. Louis stared back at him, yet again. God, Louis' eyes were likes knives. They were a sharp blue that could cut through steel. Harry shut his eyes and continued to dance to the music, ignoring the beautiful hallucination. 

"Harry!" 

Groaning, Harry yelled: "You're not Louis!"

Louis shook his head. 

"What?"

"God," Harry laughed, "You even sound like him."

"Are you," Louis scoffed, "Are you _high? _"__

____

____

Harry nodded, a smile wide on his face. He opened his eyes again, looking Louis dead in the eyes. Usually the hallucination would fade by now, but he had had a rather large dose of coke.

Louis shook his head. He angrily turned around, storming away from Harry.

Harry's smile faded. As he watched the lad stomp away from him, he realized. He could recognize that ass anywhere.

It really was Louis.


	5. Carolina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis lets himself have a night out with friends to tear himself away from the temptation of listening to Harry's new album. All is fine and good as he is pulled onto the dance floor with an attractive lad to a really, really great song.

It had been about a week since Harry's album had released. People from all over the world were raving about the new music, comparing Harry to artists such as Pink Floyd and Elvis. Harry himself had gone on multiple platforms to promote the album, seeming quite proud of the work he'd accomplished.

"I'm thrilled about the success of the album so far," Harry relayed to a interviewer on the television. Louis sat on his couch watching the interview, a box of tissues by his side in case his emotions got the best of him.

Louis refused to listen to the album. He'd kept a good distance from the music so far, and intended to keep it that way. Sure, he'd listen eventually, but he wasn't ready to listen to what was going on in Harry's head just yet. He'd been listening to the lad for years, he could live without hearing him for a few months. 

Seeing Harry at the party in London had completely gutted Louis. Harry looked amazing. He'd donned a red button up with a pair of jeans with roses scattered up and down the legs. It was a risky outfit, but of course, Harry pulled it off. 

The only glimpse that Louis had had of Harry's music was his incredible performance at the party. It created a bursting jealousy in Louis, pushing him to never listen to the rest of the album. It was so good. And it was so real. 

When Harry had begun singing, Louis was already a few shots of vodka in, and his head felt heavy. But god, did Harry have a voice. He made his way for the door as soon as he'd spotted Harry on the stage, but something had forced Louis to stay and listen. It was one of his best mates, after all. Even if they weren't talking, it was his duty to support Harry in whatever way he could. And if Louis wasn't going to listen to the album, the least he could do was lend an ear for one night.

Harry's performance was simply mesmerizing. It took Louis back to when they were on tour. One look beside himself and he could see Harry, putting his heart out onto the floor, into the spotlights. 

When he'd spotted Harry after the song, he somehow mustered up the bravery to say something- anything. Once Harry started speaking nonsense, he knew right away that Harry was under the influence. 

Towards the end of their relationship, Harry had become greatly influenced by certain drugs. Louis wasn't exactly opposed to the occasional psychedelic, but it had gotten unreasonable. 

Every so often, one of them would need a "pick-me-up," which would in turn be treated as a prescription drug. It became very helpful on tour at times when energy was low. However, Harry's habits had gotten out of hand and very difficult to deal with.

Seeing Harry doped out again was somewhat stressful. It brought about old memories of bad nights that Louis preferred not to think about. He'd gotten quite satisfied with blocking the images of Harry's bloody vomit out of his head. It wasn't that he didn't mind taking care of sick Harry, it was that Harry's life was in danger half of the time, which took a toll on Louis' sanity. 

He was angry. No, furious. Furious that Harry continued to use drugs even after the arguments and hospital visits. Harry did quit using eventually, which made Louis a very proud boyfriend. So seeing Harry high off his ass at the party created a dreadful pit of despair in Louis' chest. It was hard not to blame himself, as Harry swore not to use for as long as Louis was his, which Louis wasn't anymore.

Louis' phone vibrated on his thigh. A text from Bebe appeared on the screen.

"When will you be here?"

_"Shit," _He suddenly remembered that he had plans that started about thirty minutes prior, and quickly grabbed his jacket as he headed out the door.__

____

____

One Uber ride later, Louis walked into a crowded bar. He spotted Bebe in an instant, as she was wearing a bright yellow jumpsuit that surprisingly didn't make her look like a right banana. 

The bar was eerily familiar. Louis then remembered the last time he was at that very bar in Oxford. It was in a group outing with the boys. He remembered sitting at a table, all wearing incredibly lax disguises. They would do this often, as a way to not be recognized so easily in public. However, that was mainly for their own entertainment purposes. After all, Niall looked absolutely despicable in a Ron Weasley wig. 

Harry usually wore a plaid golfing cap along with a realistic mustache upon his lip. Louis would usually don a similar 'stache. His mind flooded with iridescent memories. He remembered making heart eyes towards Harry from across the filthy table, flirting just with a few blinks of his eye lashes. He remembered taking the boy to the restroom shortly after and shoving him against a wall as their mustaches collided. He remembered the smell of beer on Harry's breath, the feeling of Harry's drunkenly lips pressing tender kisses down his torso. 

The memories dug deep into Louis' chest. He shook his head to clear his mind as he neared the table.

"Lou!" Bebe screamed, obviously inebriated.

"Bebs!" Louis cried back. 

She swung her arm around his shoulder, standing on her tip toes to do so. 

"Boys," she said to the gentlemen at the table, "This is Louis 'The Tommo' Tomlinson. Be sure to throw your digits at him. He's single!"

Louis shuddered at the vibrant nickname. It'd sure been a while since he'd been called such a thing. In fact, it'd been years. It triggered a genuine smile to slap across his face. 

"Well _hello _, Louis!" One of the lads flirted from across the table.__

____

____

Bebe leaned into Louis' ear, "You're welcome," she said, smiling as she slid back into her seat at the table. Louis grabbed a seat beside her. The men surrounding himself and Bebe began to berate him with questions about being in One Direction. Most of their questions involved not being straight. The only thing that kept Louis sane was the incredibly catchy tune playing through the bar.

An incredibly drunk Bebe leapt out of her seat. 

"Dance with me!" She yelped, grabbing Louis' hand and yanking him towards an open floor. Of course, he went.

He hadn't put his dance moves to the test in a long while, but it felt good to do something other than cry on his couch at home. 

Bebe twirled under his arm. "Isn't he great?"

Louis giggled. "The man at the table? Yeah, quite charming, actually."

"No," Bebe chuckled, "Harry!"

He stopped dancing.

"What about him?"

Bebe stopped dancing as well, holding Louis' hands in hers. She drunkenly leaned forward, attempting to plant a kiss on an unsatisfied Louis' lips. He naturally pulled away, putting the tips of his fingers to her lips. She looked up at Louis, eyes wide. 

"The song," she said, apologetically.

Louis looked away from Bebe before making his way out of the bar. He was incredibly mad at himself for not recognizing sooner. He began to dwell over what he heard, trying to remember what the lyrics were and how the tune went. For some reason, he desperately wanted to hear it again.

As he walked outside the bar, he shivered at the frigid temperature.

"Jesus, fuck," He swore, wrapping a scarf around his neck.

The song was obviously about a woman. In fact, the only lyrics Louis could pull out of his head were: "She's a good girl," so it was obvious. He rolled his eyes at the idea of Harry writing about a girl, of all things. His thoughts were getting so unreasonably vulgar that it was beginning to scare him.

He dug his hands into his coat pockets, fishing out a cell phone. His thumbs jabbed at the screen as he typed lyrics into the Google search bar.

Within seconds, Louis had pulled up the song Carolina. As he listened, he continued to roll his eyes at the meaningless words. 

They had to be meaningless words. If they weren't meaningless, then Harry actually wrote a song about a woman he had been with. And that truly devastated Louis. So he decided that the song was meaningless.

He swore not to listen to another song from the album, at least not for a good few weeks. He couldn't handle another bout of that form of anger.


	6. "You Stress Me Out, You Kill Me..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a great distance between them, Harry and Louis give a listen to each other's voices for the first time in a long time.

Harry laid eagerly on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He checked his phone about a thousand times in hopes of another call from Louis. Yes, he could call Louis himself, but Harry felt as if he didn't have the right after everything he'd done. 

Louis never ended up calling him again.

After releasing his album, Harry expected some sort of contact or support from his old best friend. However, he'd heard nothing. 

Half of his heart belonged to Louis. When he didn't have Louis anymore, he didn't know what to do with the other half of his dead organ. So, he put it into his album. He had hoped that Louis would have listened to the album and known. The album was all Harry really had to show Louis what it all meant. 

Harry threw his phone onto the pillow beside his head once he had given up on Louis' call.

He'd set an alarm earlier that was set to go off at 2:25 PM, which was when Louis' song was to debut on the radio. In fact, he'd bought one of those special radios that played the radio as the alarm.

On one side, he was terrified of hearing Louis sing again. It was one of his greatest weaknesses. Louis was incredibly talented, which Harry swore went unappreciated. On the other hand, the excitement of hearing Louis' work enthralled Harry. 

He thought back on when he saw Louis at the party. It'd been playing over and over again in his mind since it had happened. 

Louis had caught him doing drugs again, which Harry knew full well didn't help his case. Louis of all people wanted Harry to lay off the substances, as the lad had been the one sitting beside an unconscious Harry in a hospital bed. It killed Harry to know that Louis had seen him like that again.

He felt like an idiot. In fact, it had been so traumatizing that Harry hadn't touched drugs since the party. After seeing Louis, he fled the building and walked up and down the streets of London for a few hours before being too cold and too high to walk about the town any longer. 

The radio suddenly began. As the music notes cascaded into his ears, Harry knew he was in for a treat.

He sat quietly, listening. Enjoying. It was a very catchy tune. He could almost feel it latching onto his earlobes. Bebe's voice was sweet like a lollipop, which he thoroughly liked. 

Then Louis began singing.

Harry's heart broke within seconds. He sat still on the bed, not moving a muscle. A tear inched out from the corner of his eye, sliding down his face. It was hard to keep any tears back at this point.

It was like Louis was writing to him. In fact, he swore he had heard Louis say the majority of those phrases to him at one point or another. 

As the song finished, Harry wiped the tears off his face. He thoroughly analyzed the lyrics. He told himself that the lyrics were meaningless, written to be eaten up by the intended audience, but then he remembered writing his own music. It was almost impossible to fake your emotions as you're pouring them out onto paper.

It killed him that Louis was able to write such wonderful music to the tune of his pain. Harry knew what that was like. 

Swallowing the rock in his throat, Harry picked up his phone. 

It was about time.

\--

Louis' threw his pencil at his living room wall. Looking down at his drawing, he pulled a funny face and shut his sketchbook. He was shit at drawing, and that was evident in his recent sketch of the plant in front of him.

That was it. He had officially run out of distractions. The TV was filled with images of his broken ex boyfriend, and there were no more songs to be written. 

His phone buzzed from in between the couch cushions. Louis frantically fished through the crumbs, pulling out the device.

His heart rose from his stomach into his throat.

He looked all around him, as if he was looking for somebody to ask advice from. Unfortunately, nobody was there to tell him whether or not to answer the phone.

Biting his lip, Louis rejected the call.

He didn't know whether to be proud of himself or devastated. On one hand, he was happy that Harry had finally tried to contact him. But it had been several months. That's a long time to ignore somebody that used to hold all of your secrets and memories. He shoved the phone back into the crevice of the couch.

His fingers tapped anxiously on his knee as he stared at the crack in the sofa.

Grunting, he reluctantly pulled out his cellphone, typing Harry's name into the search bar. He grabbed his headphones off the coffee table and slapped them over his ears, plugged the cord into his phone.

He laid his head back on the armrest of the couch as Meet Me in the Hallway began to play through his ears.

The first song already had Louis tearing up at the millions of references to their past. For one, the phrase was their very own signal. 

"Meet me in the hallway?" Harry would flirt, indicating that he wanted to have a secret rendezvous with Louis. They’d feel each other up passionately in a somewhat discrete location. At that period of time, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Sitting through one interview was enough time to get the two riled up for another bought of blowjobs. However, the term slightly changed over the years, becoming a signal to have an argument away from other people. The reminder made Louis cringe at the awful memories of him screaming at Harry in the middle of hotels, arenas, and even their own home.

A couple songs past before Louis made it to the last song he could listen to that day.

It sounded familiar right away. Louis recognized the melody from when Harry had begun writing it four years ago. The lyrics had changed a bit since then.

_Same lips red, same eyes blue ___

____

____

_Same white shirt, couple more tattoos ___

____

____

"Fuck," Louis thought.

_It's not you and it's not me. ___

____

____

Every lyric cut into Louis like a dagger. It all made perfect sense. By the end of the first chorus, Louis was sobbing. It was the kind of sob that you worry about the neighbors hearing. It was incredibly painful to hear Harry paint such a beautiful image of their story.


	7. "Give Me Some Morphine..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis remembers the hazy and tragic memory of Harry's first time abusing drugs. But it's his release party for "Back To You", so he does his best to keep his mind off of Harry.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

"It's bullshit!" Harry screamed, feeling his chest vibrate as he yelled.

Louis jogged to catch up to the boy.

"Harry, calm down."

"Calm down?" Harry stopped walking and turned to face Louis, "Great, so now you're saying it too? God, Louis, why don't you say something to them?"

Louis was at a loss. He really didn't know why. He just didn't have the courage to fight against their management team every time they came up with a dumb plan to cover things up. 

"The band, Harry."

Harry mumbled a string of curses. "Fuck the band, Lou. When are you going to put us first?"

The older lad's shoulders slumped down into his body. Harry was right. It was about time to put their relationship first. Yet for some reason, he just couldn't. Whenever they'd speak with their management team, the persuasive argument always seemed to sound correct. Their reasoning always overpassed the idea of going against what they offered. 

Harry rolled his eyes. He yanked the keys out of his pocket as they neared their vehicle.

Neither one of them spoke as they entered the car. About five minutes into the ride, Harry held his hand out. Louis' eyes glimmered looking at Harry's manly palm. He softly laid his hand into Harry's, only to be slapped away.

"The pills, Lou."

Louis looked up at Harry. "You're joking."

Harry turned his eyes back onto the road. 

"For fucks sake, Harry. Enough's enough."

The car jolted as Harry slammed on the breaks. They were stopped in the middle of the road.

"Louis," Harry said in a suspiciously calm voice, "Give me the fucking pills."

Louis scoffed. "Harry, come on."

Harry's eyes stared into Louis' with a loud voice of angry behind them. 

"You're deciding to go through with a plan that makes you look like a complete bafoon. You are literally choosing to have an unplanned pregnancy with a stranger. You are choosing to lie to everyone you know just to save face. I on the other hand," Harry continued, "I have to sit here and act like it is no big deal. In fact, I have been instructed to be giddy about the idea. Therefore, if I'm going to be forced into pulling off another bullshit plan," He pulled the keys out of the ignition, "I'm going to numb the god damn excruciating emotional toll with the only thing that I can rely on anymore."

Tears were filling up Louis' eyes at this point. He had no words. He had driven Harry to abuse drugs that had once helped them both out when it was necessary. Reluctantly, he slipped the orange bottle out of his left pocket and handed it to Harry, who uncapped the bottle and swallowed three pills.

"At least be responsible about it," Louis remarked.

"What," Harry glared over at him, "As responsible as knocking up a fan?"

Louis shivered with affliction. He couldn't do it anymore. He yanked the car door open and slammed it shut upon jumping out.

Before he even had the chance to turn around, Harry had sped off down the street. With his head hung low, he walked solemnly down the street, alone.

Four hours later, he received a call from an unknown number.

"Hello, is this Louis Tomlinson?"

"This is."

"Mr. Tomlinson, you are listed as Harry Styles emergency contact. Is that correct?"

Gulp.

His heart began thumping in his chest. Breathing was suddenly a luxury.

"That is correct."

"He has been admitted into Saint John's hospital in Vauxhall, if you could please make it down here as soon as possible."

He'd never hung up a call so fast. Within minutes, Louis had hopped into a taxi and was heading from London to Vauxhall. 

The ride seemed to be hours long, even though it was a fifteen minute drive.

Navigating the confusing corridors of the hospital, he'd finally made it into the room that Harry was sat in. He was hooked up to about a thousand machines that were making a thousand different noises. Harry was pale. His hair had been pulled back into a pony tail, a few wisps of hair dangling over his forehead.

"Harry," Louis moaned, making his way over. He grabbed Harry's hand in his.

"Are you Mr. Tomlinson?" A larger man in a white coat questioned.

Louis nodded.

"Yes, well," the doctor began, "he's had an overdose on morphine. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

It was a nightmare. It literally felt like a nightmare. The hairs on the back of Louis' neck stood about as tall as Harry did before he was laid in that hospital bed. As the staff of the hospital questioned Louis about Harry's drug use, he stared over at the unconscious Harry.

When he awoke, Harry leaned over himself and vomited a bright red mix of cheerios and stomach bile. Louis was silent as he watched Harry jolt forward and spew fluids all over himself. A little bit of the mess landed on Louis' sweatshirt, but that wasn't what bothered him.

It was that he had driven Harry to overdose on morphine.

\--

"BACK TO YOU" RELEASE PARTY IN DONCASTER

The penthouse apartment was filled to the brim with an assortment of celebrities and strangers. Louis had been making his rounds introducing himself to people didn't know and saying hello to people he did.

At one of the couches sat Niall and Liam. They were having an argument about football. Louis waltzed over to greet them.

"Well, well, well," Liam snarked, "If it isn't the infamous Tommo." He stood up and wrapped his arms around Louis, tugging him into a tight embrace. "I've missed you, mate."

"I've missed you too Liam," Louis hugged him back, "You heard from Zayn?"

Both Niall and Liam shook their heads.

"Ah, well. He's probably getting it on with Taylor Swift right about now, anyways," Louis joked.

They spent the next few minutes catching up. Both Liam and Niall raved about their latest successes. The three of them joked about who was going to break out amongst them as the "Justin Timberlake" of the group. It was a delicious taste of nostalgia that they all needed.

Liam's eyes widened as he looked past Louis' head.

"You made it!" He shouted, walked past Louis.

As he turned around, Louis felt all the blood rush away from his face. 

Trapped in a tight embrace from Liam, Harry kept his eyes locked with Louis'. 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."


	8. Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry shows up to Louis' party, not knowing what to expect.

Louis stared back at Harry, his mouth gaping open. A rush of feelings came over his body. Harry was there, in front of him. Harry had come to his party. Suddenly, he couldn't get Shania Twain out of his head.

Liam separated himself from Harry. 

"Hope you don't mind, mate," Liam began, his arm over Harry's shoulder, "I invited this bugger right here."

Harry smiled sheepishly at Louis. Before he'd made it into the party, he'd debated whether or not to step inside. He had no clue how Louis would react, knowing he wasn't exactly welcome even though he'd been invited through a third party. Regardless, Harry was fucking beaming when he saw Louis, as the lad looked _amazing. ___

____

____

Niall and Liam noticed the silence between the two. It had gone on for about a minute, the empty noise. 

"Perhaps we should grab a drink, Liam?" Niall raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the bar. Liam nodded, and off they went.

They stared at each other for a moment more, not knowing exactly how to break the tension. Neither of them knew what to say or what to do, as neither of them knew exactly how they felt. 

"Is it alright that I'm here?" Harry broke the silence, "I'll leave, if I'm not welcome."

Louis shrugged his shoulders, not able to mutter a sound. His tongue was tied into a noose, no words being able to break through the knot. 

Harry looked down at his feet. 

"Louis," He said, not looking up, "Your music is really brilliant." 

"Are you sober?" Louis questioned, furrowing his brow.

Harry nodded.

"Are you really?" Louis asked again.

"The last time was at that party in London," Harry began, "I haven't used since. It kind of, uh, it kind of tortured me, knowing that that was the way you saw me after all this time."

A warm tingle shimmered up and down Louis' body as he looked Harry up and down. The tall lad had donned a baby blue suit, fitted with a ruffled white shirt underneath the blazer. His hair had been tousled into an organized chaos. He looked fantastic, and Louis could feel it in his groin.

"I've missed you," Louis grinned.

Harry felt an overwhelming sense of home. For once, things felt okay. He smiled as he grabbed Louis into a tight embrace. His hands held onto the loose fabric of Louis' tee. He dug his face into Louis' shoulder, enjoying the sweet scent of his cologne. It was the same scent that Louis had used for years. 

Louis pulled Harry off of himself.

"Harry," He began, "I think you should go."

It wasn't easy anymore. Louis felt himself falling apart inside. He actually felt as if he was falling apart, as if the organs inside him were ripping apart. 

Seeing Harry was like cutting open the recently sewn up wound, squeezing lemon over it, and slapping a parma ham on top of the open flesh. Louis could see the agony in Harry's eyes as the distance between them grew larger.

"What?" Harry's bottom lip quivered.

Bebe appeared behind Louis, pushing him forward into Harry as a surprise.

"Aha!" Bebe interjected.

Louis was now in Harry's arms. He looked up at the rugged boy, feeling those green eyes stab into his blue ones. Suddenly, he was back in their old flat, sitting on the couch watching an old game of football.

A small smile briefly came and went on Harry's face. 

Pushing himself off of Harry, Louis found the strength to walk away. He turned back for a second to face Harry, smiled, and walked out of Harry's sight.

The party around him slowed. Though Louis was out of his sight, the image was still fresh in Harry's brain. People rapidly passed him, some shoving his shoulder as they moved, some avoiding him completely. His head hung low as he made his way for the door. 

"You alright, Mate?" Liam said, catching Harry before he made it outside.

Harry looked at his old friend. His head felt as if someone had turned a knob, letting thousands of pounds of pressure inside. It was building up fiercely inside him like a burning flame at a gas station.

The memories flashed into his brain.

He could barely taste the home made mash on his tongue. The empty space on his left hand index finger felt a thousand yards larger than the actual gap. He suddenly missed the hallway arguments, the management meetings that always ended in tears, the moments after a concert when they would occupy the tour bus bedroom for a few minutes too long.

Liam inched closer to Harry. He wrapped his arm around him.

"Whoa, you're definitely not alright. C'mon, let's get you out of here."

Liam guided Harry out of the penthouse and into the hallway. Harry slumped down the wall until his bum created a thud against the floor. Liam slid down beside him.

Harry stared down at his hands as he fiddled with his fingers.

"I really fucked up this time," Harry's voice shook quietly.

Liam laid a hand on Harry's curls. "Things change, Harry, but everything is gonna be okay. Not immediately, but, in time."

Eyes locked on his hands, Harry shook his head. He looked up at Liam, eyes red and swollen as the tears burst out of the dam they had been kept in. 

"We'd spent seven years together, Liam. Seven years. A-And those seven years flew by like they were merely hours," Harry's eyes focused onto the black carpet beneath him, "And now it's been less than a year without Louis, and I swear to god, it's been eons."

Liam had no words. In reality, he was quite upset about the two splitting off as well, as it had definitely put a damper on how the band functioned. Once Harry and Louis started having problems, things weren't redeemable. The once close knit group they once had had been cut up into five separate sections.

"To be honest, Harry," Liam began. Harry's swollen eyes looked up at Liam, as if he was hoping for some sort of comfort in their gaze, "I think it's best you get Louis out of your head."

That wasn't what Harry wanted to hear. He suddenly felt the world come crashing down on top of him. He swore that the roof had actually caved in, because his chest was tight as if something heavy had fallen on it and collapsed his lungs. But no, that was just pure old fashioned heartbreak.


	9. "Addicted to the Drama..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis meets an attractive Jack at his party. He finds comfort in another man's arms for the first time in a long time. And then, the elevator door opened.

THE PENTHOUSE, AFTER THE PARTY

The room was no longer flooded with strangers. Only Louis, Bebe, and Jack, the owner of the place, remained in the room.

"I'd call that a success," Jack sighed, plopping down on the blue leather couch beside Louis. Bebe found a place on the other side of Louis, placing a cocktail of rum and coke in his fist.

Louis kept his gaze on the TV in front of him. It was broadcasting the latest news on who Kendall Jenner had recently been wearing to god knows what. Louis couldn't care less, but it was a distraction from that nights events. 

Jack swept the drink from Louis' hands, taking a long swig. 

"Excuse you, mate!" Louis barked, grabbing his drink back.

A giggle erupted from Jack's chest. Louis looked him up and down, trying to decide whether or not the man was flirting with him or not. When Jack stared back at Louis with the biggest heart eyes known to man, Louis was sure.

He was flattered, but god, it still sent a wave of pain to his chest, as heart eyes only reminded him of Harry. He cursed the younger lad for damaging something so pure. 

Louis noticed that Jack's fingers were running up and down his arms.

"You work out?" Jack flirted, obviously.

"I try to," Louis replied nervously. He glanced back up at Jack, who was looking right back at him. He was quite an attractive lad, that was definitely something Louis hadn't noticed before. His hair was blonde, but not a blinding white/yellow. It had a tinge of brown that got lighter on the ends. His eyes were a rich dark brown, which happened to sparkle in the light that bounced from the TV set.

Bebe slithered drunkenly off the couch, "I think-" She hiccuped, "Think I'll fetch a ride home. Not in the mood to witness a live gay porn. Nope. Not today," She said, wandering towards the exit.

"Bebe, you alright?" Louis called after her, not breaking his eye contact with Jack.

"Yeah," she hollered from the door, "Got an uber." 

She poked her head back into the room for a second.

"Use a condom."

Louis and Jack looked away from each other, slightly embarrassed from the crude remark. God, it was refreshing to act like high schoolers again. They were hiding their red cheeks from each other, though they both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Before he had a chance to think of the next move, Jack had grabbed Louis by the cheeks and pressed their lips together. It was rather dry and not exactly hot, but it was thrilling and spontaneous, something Louis hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

They broke apart for a second.

"You okay?" Jack asked.

Louis pushed himself onto Jack, kissing him fiercely. His chest pressed against Jack's as he lay on top of him. He couldn't help but grind his hips into Jack's, trying to feel every inch of him. Lucky for Louis, he could feel Jack immediately, as his dick was already rock hard against his light blue jeans.

On the other hand, Louis was having a hard time getting there. He had never been with another man before. Harry was the only gay relationship Louis had had any expertise in. Every kiss was somewhat of a reminder of the love he lost, which didn't exactly pump blood to where it needed to be.

Jack's hands grasped at the back of Louis' head. He gave a brief tug onto a chunk of Louis' hair, urging Louis to moan with pleasure. 

Louis thought back to when Harry would tangle his fingers into Louis' mess of a hairdo, pulling from every angle just to get Louis closer to him. The thought sent a mind numbing wave of want to Louis' groin.

"Ah, Louis," Jack whispered into Lou's ear, "I've wanted you all night."

Louis laughed, shoving his face into the crook of Jack's neck, sucking at the tender skin. He felt Jack thrust from below him as a reaction from the love bite, just like Harry used to. Harry's body had an automatic trigger to thrust whenever Louis so much as looked at his neck.

Then Louis broke down sobbing into Jack's chest. Jack sat up immediately, taking Louis into a tight embrace.

"Shh, shh, calm down," Jack soothed.

"I'm so, so sorry," Louis cried. He picked his head up and looked at Jack, "This is so fucking embarrassing."

"It's alright, love," Jack said, petting Louis' head, "You're okay."

Jack leaned in closer to Louis' face, attempting to press another kiss onto him, only to be rejected. 

"No," Louis sniffled, "I'm sorry, I just, I can't do this. I'm sorry."

Disappointed, Jack got up. He let a hand out towards Louis, which Louis accepted. A quick pull and Louis was up on his feet.

Jack walked Louis towards the door. 

"Oh, wait," Jack said, going into a closet and pulling out a floral blazer, "It's chilly out there. Might as well take it."

Louis took the jacket without a second thought, as he hated being cold more than standing in the apartment of a boy he had just cried in front of after a failed attempt at fucking. He slipped the jacket over his arms and smiled at Jack before walking out the door.

The walk down the hallway to his Uber was a rather long one. It was the first time Louis had been alone in a few days. He let himself have a rather rough cry once he'd entered the elevator. It felt nice, crying. Things could only get better, he thought. He'd finally cut Harry out of his life. It was his decision this time, and while it hurt like hell, it hurt a lot worse than being rejected by Harry. Finally things were on his terms. 

He sniffed up the snot that was draining from his nose as the elevator doors opened.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."


	10. "Move on, get you out my mind..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is a rather popular guy. Little did Harry know that they were both thinking about the same person as they kissed.

"I swear," Harry said, hiding his embarrassment and shock under a sheet of curls, "I only came back to grab my..."

Harry's eyes dotted up and down Lou's torso. Louis looked down at himself, recognizing the obnoxiously floral blazer he had put on up at the apartment. He felt stupid for not recognizing Harry's adorable fashion sooner, but he felt stupider for not recognizing Harry's unforgettable scent on the jacket. 

"Fuck," Louis cursed, "Sorry." 

He removed the jacket rapidly and handed it over to Harry, who took it out of the smaller lads hands rather slowly. 

Harry took a deep breath in before looking back up at Louis. The boy was fucking gorgeous in the unforgiving light of the apartment elevator. It kissed every subtle curve of Louis body, including the sudden goosebumps that polka dotted Louis' arms.

"Here," Harry tilted his head, handing the jacket back to Louis.

Louis shook his head, "Don't need it."

Rolling his eyes, Harry kept his arm extended, jacket in his fingers.

"I'm not taking your jacket, Harry," Louis barked. He held his head down as he walked fiercely away. Something stabbed at his heart when he heard the clomping of footsteps behind him. He swirled around, ready to argue just like he was used to, only to be cut short.

Harry was standing against a wall. His head was positioned against the archway between the foyer and the hallway. It was keeping the rest of his body up. He was looking in Louis' direction anymore. He wasn't ready to call Louis' name. He had simply given up, and it was evident in the way he was standing.

Defeated, Louis turned back around and walked out the door. Abandoning Harry was the last string to be cut from their broken relationship, and he'd finally grabbed a pair of scissors and done it.

\--

TWO WEEKS LATER; HARRY'S APARTMENT

The door slammed open. Harry's back was pressed flush against the wooden panels as Jack kissed into him deeply.

Jack smelled strongly of whiskey. His breath was sharp on Harry's nose, who was also extremely intoxicated.

He'd been getting intoxicated a lot, recently.

The world was a carousel, and he was merely a horse on a pole. He laughed into Jack's lips at the sexual innuendos that could be made of the thought. 

"What is it?" Jack giggled, pulling a small bit away from Harry's face.

Harry tangled his fingers into Jack's silky brownish blondish hair. It was slightly too short to wrap your fingers up in, but Harry tried his best to get lost in him.

"Mmm, just want you to ride me like a horse is all."

Harry and Jack had been seeing each other for about a week. They'd met at Louis' release party, exchanged numbers, and met up for coffee a few days after. Their relationship was purely sex with a sprinkle of comfort and care. It was a necessity for Harry's sanity, as getting his mind off of Louis Tomlinson was a horrendous task that only the pros could handle.

Jack was a like-able guy. He had a decent sense of humor, incredible taste in clothing, and didn't mind listening to Pink Floyd. 

Their nights included going out to dinner, drinking about three bottles of wine at the table, being removed from the restaurant, heading to a bar for thirty minutes, and heading to another location to fuck the alcohol out of each other. 

Breathing heavily, Jack pushed Harry into the apartment. The door slammed behind him as he entered the kitchen. 

Harry was struggling to get his pants off. He tripped over his belt, falling over onto the wooden floor.

"Don't bother getting up," Jack flirted, kneeling down beside Harry. His fingers traced doodles on Harry's back. His fingers walked up Harry's spine and into his curls, grabbing tight and yanking back. Harry moaned in anticipation of what would come next.

Jack leaned into Harry's ear.

"You want me to ride you, huh?" 

He yanked Harry's belt from the pants around his ankles and wrapped it around Harry's face, the leather bound between Harry's teeth.

Harry moaned into the belt, his eyes crinkling and his brows raising in utter desire. He tried to beg for more, but it was hard to understand through the gag. 

Jack loved watching Harry crumble. It was really a sight to see, as Harry was usually the one doing the fucking. His hand clapped around Harry's ass with a thud, making the younger boy's skin ripple like an ocean. His dick twitched in his pants as he watched Harry fidget and shake with each minute of denial.

"Let me fuck you," Harry begged. With a smile, Jack began to undress himself, starting with his shirt. He tore it off, revealing his blank chest. 

It suddenly clicked in Harry's brain that he was with Jack. Their sex sessions were usually harsh attacks of sudden passion. In fact, they'd never seen each other naked. Sex with Jack was usually in bathrooms, closets, or on a couch under a blanket. But there he was, in front of a naked Jack, going flaccid rapidly. 

His breathing became fast, quicker than normal. Jack leaned in, pressing more kisses to Harry's back. 

"Aww, baby," Jack laughed into his smooches, "No need to be nervous."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to deny Jack, but his words were muffled. Jack must have seen this as a nod to keep going, because he did.

Jack's fingers inched closer to Harry's ass. He ran a finger up and down Harry's cheeks, causing little goosebumps to form. Harry really didn't like that. He began to shake, as if he was trying to shake his head with his body.

The "no's" coming from Harry became more evident to Jack, so he stopped abruptly, pulling his hands away. 

"You okay?" He asked Harry, removing the gag. A string of spit dangled from the belt. 

Harry pulled himself up off the floor. 

"I'm okay, yeah." He stood up, lending a hand to help Jack up, "Is it alright if we just watch a movie or something?"

Harry's head was spinning. He held onto the kitchen island for support.

"Yeah," Jack said, disappointed, "Yeah that's fine. C'mon," He grabbed Harry's free hand and guided him towards the living room.

They sat on the couch, a good distance away from each other. Jack took the liberty of finding a film, turning the TV on and browsing through the romantic comedies on Netflix. He glanced over at Harry, who had his head resting on the arm of the sofa.

Jack turned away. 

"I'll be right back," he said, grabbing his cellphone and walking to the bathroom. 

Harry kept his gaze on the TV, trying to focus on the movie rather than the awkward situation he was in. Suddenly, his stomach churned, a sharp pain rising up through his esophagus like a knife. His hand covered his mouth as he darted for the restroom.

He slammed the door open, hand still on his mouth. Looking up, he saw a guilty Jack with a phone pressed against his ear. 

Harry turned to vomit in the sink. 

Jack dropped his phone as he ran out of the room. Harry continued to vomit in the sink until his stomach was empty of the alcohol and bar chips.

Harry turned his head, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. On the bathroom rug was Jack's phone, a phone call still up and running. The caller was simply a few numbers, but they had a kissing emoji at the end of them, so it was a contact in Jack's phone.

A curious Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear.

"Jack?" The voice asked, "Jack, you okay?"

"Louis?"


	11. Two Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An empty whipped cream can reminds Harry of his first time with Louis. Who knew whipped cream made for such great lube?

**FIVE YEARS EARLIER - HARRY AND LOUIS' FLAT ******

********

********

 

"Love Actually" played loudly on their brand new television set. Louis was sat atop Harry, his legs straddling either side of the long lad. They were kissing passionately, smiling into each other's faces each time they broke apart for a breath.

Louis' petite fingers wrapped around Harry's face. He purposefully gyrated his hips into Harry's hard on, feeling ever inch of Harry press against his ass. It made him want Harry incredibly bad, so bad that his dick twitched with every second.

Their smile's had turned into straight faces of complete lust. Harry's hands had grasped Louis' hips, moving them just the way he wanted them to. 

"Uggh," Louis moaned, sitting up. He used his hands to take off his shirt, revealing a few tattoos. Harry bit his lip at the sight. 

Louis grabbed Harry's chin in his hand, squishing Harry's lips into a fish face. 

"You're adorably in love with me, aren't you?"

Harry managed to smile through the hold, nodding. 

There was no other happiness that compared to how they were both feeling. 

Louis leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of Harry's neck. He sucked gently, causing Harry to fidget beneath him. 

"Lou," Harry begged, "Uggh, I gotta fuck you."

"Uh uh uh," Louis teased, coming back up. He hopped off of the couch. The younger lad looked over at him, his lips pink and plump with his mouth hanging open slightly. 

Louis began to walk away, heading towards the kitchen. Without a second thought, Harry leaped up off the sofa and darted for Louis, who was standing behind the open refrigerator door. Louis was bent over, looking for something on the bottom shelf. Once he'd made his way to Louis, Harry grabbed the boy's hips in his palms and pressed himself against them.

"Mmm, Harry..."

Turning around, Louis met Harry's gaze. He looked longingly up at Harry's lips, wondering what they would feel like if he just leaned in closer. 

He slipped his nimble fingers underneath the fabric of Harry's white button up, gently pulling the sleeves down Harry's toned shoulders. It kept slipping down, though Louis couldn't understand why anything would want to leave Harry's body.

Harry stared down at the beautiful person under him. He could smell the sharp scent of Louis' shampoo, as the fringe was right under his nose. Louis' eyelashes rest just barely against the cheeks below them. He watched Louis' eyes watch him tenderly as his shirt fell to the ground. Louis looked up at him.

They leaned in, kissing each other smoothly, feeling their lips break apart and come back together again. 

Breaking apart deliberately, Louis grinned. He walked over to the counter, bending over it. Harry tenderly ran his hands down Louis' torso, finding it completely impossible to resist feeling him with his entire palm. 

"Harry?" Louis whispered.

"Yes Lou?"

Louis turned his head.

"Can we actually do it?"

Harry felt his heart race down to his groin. Louis and him had never actually done _everything _. They'd given blowjob after blowjob, but never _it _. They'd danced around the idea, fiddling with each other, fingering every now and then, but never had they actually had complete sex with each other.____

_____ _

_____ _

"I'd love to."

Louis leaned his head back, allowing Harry to press another kiss to his tender lips. Harry gladly took the opportunity. He reached down, pulling Louis' pants to the floor. _Jesus _, he thought as he admired Louis' unforgivingly plump ass.__

____

____

"Erm," Harry stuttered, "Lou?"

"Yeah?"

Harry gulped.

"We don't have any lube."

Louis turned around, his eyes searching the room for a solution. They locked onto the fridge.

Harry turned around to see what Louis had spotted.

"I'm not fucking you with mayonnaise."

Louis laughed. He shook his head as he walked to the fridge, grabbing a new bottle of whipped cream. 

"If you're gonna fuck me," The older lad started, squirting the white cream onto his index finger and sticking it into his mouth, sucking and then popping it out flirtatiously, "You'd better be sweet about it."

Harry immediately stopped biting his lip to let his mouth hang open. 

"But that's-"

Louis put his sweet finger to Harry's lips. He forcefully shoved the can into Harry's manly palm, positioning himself back against the counter. He looked back at Harry wistfully.

Harry took his dick out and lightly traced Lou's bum with the tip. The skin to skin contact was so soft. Louis' skin was plush like a pillow, whereas Harry's dick was solid as a rock.

Taking the can, Harry pumped a string of whipped cream onto his finger. He reached down and let the cream hit Louis hole, feeling the boy jerk for a second.

"Sorry," Harry murmured through a side smile, "It's cold." He continued to rub the area with the sweet cream, circling Louis with his index finger. He dipped in for a second, coming back out, and then dipped back in a little further, adding more fingers. This was something Harry was incredible at, having had lots of practice on Louis. It wasn't long before Louis was making his cute little noises that only got louder with time.

Louis was moaning a string of curses with each curl of Harry's fingers. As Harry watched Louis crumble, he bit his lip. He knew that Louis was his, as he was literally wrapped around his fingers.

"More," Louis cried. 

Harry pulled his fingers out slowly, making Louis turn to look at him. His eyes were glossy and wide. His lips were red form being nibbled on. Harry could read the "why did you stop?" on his face. 

Leaning forward, Harry kissed Louis' bum, keeping eye contact with him.

The can of whipped cream roared as Harry poured a string of cream onto his fully erect penis. Louis watched every second of the process, as Harry began to rub the white substances all over himself, up and down. He leaned his head back as he jerked himself off, knowing full well that it was driving Louis crazy.

"No no no," Louis groaned. He grabbed Harry as best he could, pulling him closer. "Fuck me, please. Please, Harry."

Harry smirked. Louis was absolutely falling to pieces in front of him. He placed the head of his penis on Louis' entrance, moving himself up and down and around it, but not pressing in just yet. 

Louis shook his butt at Harry, trying to push back onto his dick. 

"Oh?" Harry questioned, his voice low and rugged. "You want me to fuck you, do you?"

Before Louis could fight him, Harry pushed himself into Louis gently. He had planned on pulling out to tease Louis some more, but he couldn't help himself. He tenderly slipped deep into Louis until he was fully inside of him. His hips pressed against the plush of Louis' bum.

"God," Harry moaned lowly, "You okay?" He asked, trying his best to sound manly, though he couldn't really control the other parts of his body anymore.

Louis began to rock back onto Harry, pushing Harry deeper inside of him.

"Yeah," Louis flirted, a little giggle in his voice. "You're literally right there, right there..." He continued to rock up and down, doing most of the work that Harry had planned on doing.

With his palms grasping either sides of Louis' hips, Harry ferociously pounded into the small person in front of him. He had no control. His body was slamming against the soft of Louis', and it felt greatly wonderful. His mouth hung open as loving pants slipped off of his tongue like water.

The air was sweet, sweaty, and filled with pounds of love. Louis' elbows were red as they sat on the counter in front of him. His eyes were glued shut, letting the rest of his body experience the pleasure with each thrust. It was like getting a massage, and Harry was rubbing deep into that one _terrific _spot.__

____

____

"Fuck, Lou. I'm not gonna last much- much longer." Harry heaved, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes focused on watching himself slide in and out of Louis.

Louis was busy letting out a slow "unghh," too caught in the moment to respond. His eyes widened as he dug his fingernails into Harry's back behind him. "Harry, I'm gonna cum, n-now."

Harry grabbed onto Louis hair and tugged, yanking Louis' head back with it. Louis let out what could only be classified as a pleasurable scream as he began coming hotly all over their brand new kitchen counter.

With each thrust, Louis let out a small grunt. Harry was pounding hard and fast, but slowed down once he felt himself climbing over the edge. It literally felt like climbing a ladder. Each thrust felt better, like taking a step up the wooden bars. Finally, he'd reached the top, and he spilled entirely into Louis. His face shriveled up and his head fell down onto the curve of Louis' back.

As they both came down, they stayed still. 

"Merry Christmas, Lou." 

 

**PRESENT: HARRY'S APARTMENT ******

********

********

Jack sat still on the sofa, drinking from a beer he'd been working on for about an hour. He was butt naked, ass facing up with his head turned towards the television. They were watching some dumb Hallmark movie that had been playing on repeat.

"You almost done?" Jack called to Harry, who was in the kitchen.

With the fridge wide open, Harry stood motionless, the empty whipped cream can in his hand. He stared down at it, feeling his stomach plummet down to his feet. The images came crashing into his head like an ornament falling from a tree. 

"Be right there."


	12. "Shit, maybe I miss you..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunken night with Jack gets Louis into trouble- especially when he forgets to hang up the phone.

The pen felt warm in the crook of Louis' hand between his thumb and forefinger. With words flowing through his brain rapidly, it was hard to get them all down onto the paper quick enough before another word hit his brain. 

As hard as he tried, it was difficult not to write their entire relationship into his music. After all, Harry was his everything up until the day things blew up.

The worst thing about it all was that not only did they slip apart, but the others in the band did as well. With all of the scandals and jobs that were being thrown at their faces, it was hard to maintain a healthy relationship with those involved. Towards the end, they were merely coworkers. No longer the jubilant team of teenage boys they once were.

Louis' heart hung low in his chest. He missed his friends. He missed the people he once spent every waking moment with, even when the lights weren't on. 

His hand ached from all the scribbles. He laid the pen down for a second and stretched his hands, hearing them crack as they spread between one another.

"Look at my hard worker!" A sharp voice rang from behind Louis. Although he knew it was Jack, something deep inside of him ached for it to be his curly headed fool.

Jack came up behind Louis, running his hands around Louis' stressed shoulders. He pressed a kiss to Louis' neck, gently biting the skin.

Louis turned his head, giving Jack a glimpse of a smile. Louis pressed a kiss to Jack's stubbly cheek.

"I'm exhausted," Louis sighed.

Jack spun the office chair around so that Louis faced him. He plopped himself down onto Louis' lap, which crushed at Louis' thighs, as Jack had a rather bony ass. 

"Aw," Jack flirted, "I wonder if there's a way to relieve that stress?"

"Jack, I'm not really in a frisky mood, mate," Louis sighed.

Jack shook his head. He got up and grabbed something out of his bag. When he pulled it out, Louis smiled at the familiar amber colored liquor.

"Oh fuck yeah." 

As the day progressed to night, Louis took the last sip of whiskey. It didn't burn as it went down his throat, as he was almost completely numb. Jack was standing upon the desk, his shoes making a mess of the scribbled on papers.

Jack was screaming "Kiwi" at the top of his lungs. It didn't sound nearly as good coming from his mouth. Louis was comfortably numb, so why did it hurt so much to be reminded of Harry? 

"Bathroom," Louis slurred, making an excuse to leave the room.

Jack tore his shirt off. "Fine, but you're getting a strip tease when you get back."

As Louis darted for the bathroom, he drunkenly yanked his phone from his pocket. The letters on the screen danced in his glazed over eyes. Though it was hard to press the right buttons, Louis made his way to Harry's contact. Before he knew it, the phone had rang the dial tone out three times.

"Lou?"

Louis stared at himself in the mirror.

"Harry!" He excitedly yelled. He gripped at his chest. "I'm so excited to hear you, m'please sing to me."

Harry was quiet for a second. "Are you drunk, Lou?"

"F'course I'm drunk, Harry."

"Are you okay?"

"Everything is great, Harry. Fuckin' great."

"Oh," Harry said, a bit disappointed. "Well you better get back to that, then."

"No no no!" Louis begged. "Sing to me! Jacks an awful singer, he's been butchering your songs all night."

"Jack? You're with Jack?"

Jealously boiled in Harry's voice. The thought of Louis being with another man was like a knife plunging through his chest. Then he realized that it was Louis he should be jealous of, as Jack was his boyfriend of some sort. Louis was simply his ex.

Just then, Jack burst into the bathroom, finding Louis with his pants around his ankles. Louis had his flaccid penis in his palm, flinging it around in a circle.

"Jesus, Lou." Jack laughed. "Do it again, do it again!"

"Shhh!" Louis drunkenly scolded Jack. "Harry's gonna sing for us!"

Jack's face went from rosy red to snow white. The terror of his two “boyfriends” recognizing that they were being toyed with sobered him up a bit. "Harry's on the phone? Louis why-why are you on the phone with Harry? Hang up."

Louis quickly threw the phone down into the sink. "There, hung up."

Jack smirked. His body regained the drunken lust it had a few seconds prior, as he totally forgot about the possibility of Harry finding out about Louis. He lunged towards Louis, wrapping his arms around him. He began to sing "Sweet Creature" softly into Louis' ear, only to be pushed away with Louis' nimble arms.

"Stop it!"

"Lou," Jack whined, "C'mon, unwind with me."

Louis turned his back to Jack. "No, not if you're gonna screw with Harry's beautiful lyrics. If you're gonna sing it, sing it right."

Meanwhile, Harry nibbled at his fingers. The phone hadn't been hung up, after all, and he was listening to the whole situation unravel. He desperately wished he was there so that he could jump in the middle of the two and break it off. 

As he heard Louis' protests grow weaker and weaker, something died inside him, as Louis was giving in to what Jack was offering. The longer he listened, however, he began to hear the resist in Louis' voice. 

A white hot rage boiled in Harry. The next few moments he could only remember in fragments, as he was so angry that bits had blacked out of his memory. The last thing he remembered before arriving at Louis' studio was grabbing his jacket. The next thing he saw was the door to the bathroom.

As he came to, he looked down at his hands, wondering if he was in the right mind to be there. After all, Louis hadn't really wanted to see him as of the past time they'd seen each other. Then again, he had just heard his boyfriend forcing himself onto Louis. And that was enough for Harry to press his large hand over the knob and turn it.

When the door swung open, Jack was on the other side, opening the door himself.

"Harry?" He said, surprised. His eyes widened as he tried to gather words. "What are you doing here?"

Harry leaned his head so that he could see past Jack. The vision of Louis being hung over the counter with his head in the sink and his pants round his ankles made Harry's stomach flop. Rage coursed through his veins, and soon enough, Harry saw black.


	13. "I've never felt less cool..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry recollects himself after the dreaded night. Louis' mind is a blur, but something about waking up in Harry's apartment makes the hangover a little easier.

Harry stared at the pasty white ceiling above him. His black satin sheets felt cold on the toes of his feet. He ran his long fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh with puffed cheeks as he detangled them from the locks of brown. 

The images kept flashing through his head. They would appear in vivid dark colors, splashing in his memory and disappearing as he tried to force them away. They were like cold, dense nightmares. Louis over the sink. Jack at the door. Scratches on Louis' back, much like the ones he himself used to leave, only this time, they weren't his marks of passion. The scratches were reminiscent of a selfish and unforgettable act that Jack had left. 

He remembered carrying Louis out of the studio. Louis' legs dangled on the front of Harry's chest like two limp bags of water, hitting his torso with each step he took down the street. The street lights illuminated the tears that ran down his cheeks. 

He remembered the sound Louis' body made when it hit the leather of the back of Harry's Range Rover. Once his faded head hit the seat, Louis sang out: "I've never felt less cool."

It broke Harry's heart to hear Louis sing those lyrics. Sure, it felt warm to see Louis with such a knowledge of Harry's music, but the timing couldn't have been worse. It made perfect sense, and that's what stabbed like a dagger into Harry's heart.

Harry slithered out of his bedsheets, his feet planting to the floor with a heavy thud. For a moment he just sat, taking in the cold air of his apartment. The images flashed through again, and he got to his feet, hoping that a new day would mean new, different flashes.

He walked into the living room. With a glance to his left, he found Louis laying on the couch, his shirt covered in a mess of his own vomit. 

Harry walked over to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and walked over to Louis. He knelt down in front of the sleeping boy, biting his lip as he set the glass of water on the coffee table.

Louis' eyes fluttered open, squinting at the sunlight that peaked through Harry's open windows. They opened fully, looking right at Harry. 

"Morning sleepy head." Harry spoke softly.

Louis threw his arm over his face. "God, what is that smell?" He looked down at his chest. "Oh, god."

"Let's get that off of you." Harry whispered, lending his hands towards the white of Louis' tee. And Louis let him. 

"Harry," Louis croaked, "I'm so sorry."

Harry shook his head. "Don't be. Just focus on getting up for now."

"No," Louis shivered, "I can't remember a thing. I'm sorry but- did we?"

Again, Harry shook his head. 

They were both quiet for a second. Louis kept his head against the arm of Harry's couch, refusing to make eye contact. 

"Um," Harry cleared his throat, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll take you home."

Louis looked over at him and nodded. He attempted to sit up, only to find himself falling back down onto the flush of the leather couch. Harry then helped him up, lead him to the bathroom, and shut the door.

With his back against the door, Louis slid down to the floor. His head hung low in his hands as he began to let out a quiet sob. It was silent, but full of eager breaths. It was like he couldn't quite catch it. He felt truly defeated. There he was, sitting in his ex boyfriend's bathroom covered in his own vomit; crying. 

As hard as he tried, he couldn't remember the night past Jack dancing on the desk. Anything past that moment was a painful headache that his brain had thankfully blacked out with dark ink. 

Louis got up and looked at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized himself. Yes, he looked just like his usual hungover self, but he could no longer look into his own eyes. His fist hit the sink, causing the toiletries on the counter to rattle. His eyes locked onto an old bottle of cologne he'd bought Harry ages ago for their second anniversary. It smelled god awful, but it smelled great on Harry. Then again, the bottle was nearly full, reminding Louis that Harry too was disgusted by the Hollister stench it created.

After a long and much needed shower, Louis emerged from the bathroom with his hair in a spiked up and wet mess. A towel drooped over his hips as he walked into Harry's living room, where Harry was sitting on the couch with his hands together and to his lips. Their eyes met.

"Hey." Harry's low and sweet voice ran towards Louis.

"Hey." Louis responded. "Um, I know this is weird but can I-"

Harry looked at the pile of folded clothes on the coffee table.

"Oh, yeah, thanks." Louis regressed, picking up the clothes and making for Harry's bedroom to change. He stopped and turned back around. "You know, you didn't have to do that."

"I know." Harry responded. 

Louis heaved a heavy sigh. Harry looked just as beat as Louis did, and he hadn't developed a massive hangover. Louis felt a rage bubble in his stomach. 

"No, you didn't- You _shouldn't _have come up."__

____

____

Harry turned his head towards the window, not wanting to start another one of their long and painful arguments. "Louis."

"No, you know what Harry? I don't need you to sweep me off my drunk feet. I could have found a ride home without you. I'm not helpless."

"What, from Jack?" Harry scoffed. "Louis, you know what, for a moment, I thought I shouldn't have. But I'm damn sure glad I did because," And he stopped.

"Because? Ya gonna finish that sentence mate?" Louis barked.

"It doesn't matter, just," Harry rubbed his face, "Just go, get dressed, and I'll-I'll call you an Uber or something."

Louis inched closer to Harry, the clean clothes pinched in his fist. "First of all, ew. Ya can't go stalking me to find out who I'm with, that's just damn creepy, Harry. And second of all, how? How the fuck did you even find me? What, were you stalking me? Were you actually? How did you know I was at my studio?"

"Louis, I-"

"Jack is nice to me, Harry. It's been fucking bullshit these past few months, but I finally found a way back to happiness. Why are you trying to fuck it all up? God, Harry, get over it. Just get over it. Christ."

Harry stood up to his feet. There was a strong tension between them. He waltzed up closer to Louis. Harry was a great deal taller than Louis. His longer body cast an enormous shadow over Louis' tiny torso. Harry clapped his hands together.

"Louis, you called me."

Louis was at a loss for words. The two stood there, about a foot apart, and yet Louis didn't have a witty remark to shoot back. It was a first.

Harry took a deep breath in. "You called me, plastered. The typical drunken call you'd make to an ex. And you didn't sound okay, and that was fine, no big deal for me, because I know you can handle yourself, but you left the damn phone on as he felt you up in that bathroom."

Louis' eyebrows made a "V" on his forehead. "You listened to that? What the fuck Harry!"

Harry threw his hands in the air. "I listened for like a minute! And it was god awful, Louis! I listened to his hands all over you, and I listened to your drunken calls for help drown down into unconsciousness as he continued with you!"

A white hot flush of fear stung at the back of Louis' neck. He suddenly remembered small fragments of what had happened. And just like that, he felt numb again. The only thing he felt was pure hatred for himself at that very moment as he stood, half naked in Harry's flat. 

"Get yourself dressed. I'll call you can Uber or something, just- get out." 

Louis' eyes dripped down to his feet. He looked back up. Harry had found his seat on the couch, head in his hands. Defeated, Louis walked into Harry's bedroom, where he held back his tears until he was entwined in clothes that were slightly too large for his small frame. As he turned around to leave, he saw Harry stood in the doorway, red eyes and wet cheeks.


	14. "Why you wearing that to walk out of my life?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Louis leaves Harry's apartment, things come crashing down rather quickly for Harry. It really doesn't help that Louis was wearing an entire outfit of Harry's clothes, and although he was being drowned in fabric, he looked damn fantastic.

“Your Uber is down on the street,” Harry said through a frown. Louis stared right back at him, not knowing what exactly to say. There were a million things floating through his brain, but not one thing seemed appropriate.

Louis hung his head low. He walked past Harry, keeping his eyes down on the floor. 

It was all so fucked up. Louis didn’t want to leave Harry’s apartment. Something about the old flat sent waves of comfort through Louis’ body. His heart truly felt at home. It smelled like home, a rich aroma of apples and cinnamon from one of Harry’s favorite candles. The furniture was perfectly arranged to suit their needs. The coffee table was still close to the couch, the perfect length for Louis’ legs to reach. But most of all, Harry was there. Louis knew that wherever Harry was, he was safe. 

Louis approached the front door. His hand hovered over the knob, only to drop back down by his side as he turned around, to find Harry standing close behind him.

Harry’s eyes were still red and watery. His eyebrows were furrowed into a concerned expression.

“Louis?” Harry asked, momentarily calm and collected. 

“Yes Harry?”

Harry stared at his feet. “Don’t go back with him.”

Louis bit his lip and tilted his head. He cared deeply about what Harry wanted, and he wanted to give it to him. But things were different. Harry wasn’t what was best for him, so maybe Jack was. He turned back around and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him as he made for the Uber.

The minute the door clicked, Harry hid his face in his hands. After a sob or two, he ran his palms up his face and into his hair as he began to pace the apartment. He finally had Louis again. No, Louis wasn’t his boyfriend, but taking care of Louis was the closest he’d gotten to getting Louis back. God, he wanted Louis back.

Louis was his other half. As cliché as it may sound, it was true. When Louis was around, Harry felt whole. He’d gotten a taste of that completeness again, only to have it ripped away within a couple hours.

Harry crashed down onto his couch with a thud as he thought more about Louis. He still couldn’t forget about the unwarranted touching that he’d heard over the phone the other night. It all haunted him like a ghost. 

The more he thought, the more anger built up in his chest. It was similar to the feeling when you’re about to vomit. Your face gets hit with a wall of a cold yet hot air, the back of your neck floods with goosebumps, and you can feel a burning ache rise in your throat. 

Louis never made an effort to see Harry unless he was drunk. This realization burned like a torch in the pit of Harry’s stomach. More revolting thoughts flooded into Harry’s brain. He pulled at his own hair, hoping it would tear the thoughts away, but it didn’t.

He screamed to himself. 

“He doesn’t love you,” He cried into the empty air of his flat, “He doesn’t even care.”

There were no more songs to write. There were no more songs to sing. His heart was broken and bent from twelve different angles. 

No, he knew that helping Louis out that night wouldn’t fix the problems they had as a couple. But he really hoped it would mend some of them. He hoped that Louis would be grateful when Harry arrived like a knight in shining armor. He really should have known better, as Louis was never one for dramatic entrances that he wasn’t making.

Then Harry began to think about Jack. Jack was the closest he’d been to loving somebody since Louis. Jack was a taste of freedom. Jack didn’t mind holding hands in public or going to parties as a couple. Jack didn’t agree to pull dumb publicity stunts to hide their relationship, like having a god damn baby, for example. Jack was proud to love Harry. Louis wasn’t.

And yet Jack still wasn’t good enough to fill the void that Louis created. Harry knew this, but he still let himself indulge in the false happiness, knowing it was better than sitting at home and moping over a boy that wouldn’t come back.

He was gutted. Yet again, Louis had left him. And he couldn’t turn to Jack, because, well, Jack was the bastard who would rather be a cheating rapist than a supportive boyfriend. 

Harry stood up slowly, taking a deep breath in. He walked over to his kitchen and rummaged through his cupboards until he’d found a substantial amount of liquor. He smiled at his glorious pile of alcohol. He could get fucked off of wine, beer, vodka, or a concoction of the lot.

So, he did. He pressed his lips to all of the bottles, enjoying the sweet or bitter bite each one gave him. He shuddered at the hard alcohol, but decided to drink more of it, as it fucked him up more than the others did.

He drank and drank and drank, but Louis was still running through his mind like a leaking faucet. Harry drunkenly laid himself down on the floor, spreading his arms and legs as he stared up at the ceiling light.

“Looks like a boob,” he said to himself.  
He then began to cry. It wasn’t as painful as before. It was a slightly numbed cry for help that nobody could hear. He cried louder, feeling it vibrate in his chest as he yelled Louis’ name.

Harry got up to his feet slowly, wiggling around as he tried to catch his balance. His feet wobbled right and left as they attempted to find their way to the bathroom. He slammed his palm on the doorframe in an attempt not to fall over, which worked.

He entered the bathroom and planted his palms on the sink, looking up into the mirror. He chuckled at himself in an evil, disappointing way. He looked god awful; like he hadn’t slept for days. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken in his face, nearly drooping off his cheeks. 

With one hand keeping his balance on the sink, he opened his medicine cabinet with the other. 

Being a celebrity gives you access to almost everything you could ever imagine. Every drug for every symptom was available to you for little to no price. Harry didn’t have a large variety of these drugs, but he had a large amount of a few of them. 

“God,” His mouth clicked, “I’m really fucked.”

If Louis were there, Harry wouldn’t have even opened the cabinet. It would have been an easy answer in his head to not take the pills. In fact, if Louis were there, it wouldn’t have even been a question. But Louis was in an Uber, on his way back into Jack’s arms, so Harry grabbed an orange bottle from the shelf and clenched it in his hand as he walked back into his kitchen.

He poured himself a glass of water. His drunken fingers fiddled with the safety cap on the bottle, opening it after a few failed attempts of pushing down and turning.

The pills spilled all over the island in his kitchen. This caused Harry to cry again. He slammed his elbows down on the wooden surface and laid his head in his hands. His eyes came up, peaking out between his middle and forefinger. 

The pills taunted him. They were sitting there, large and white, perfectly shape for an easy way down his esophagus. So, without flinching, he swept a few pills into his hand. 

He opened his mouth and threw his hand over it. With his other hand, he grabbed a nearly empty bottle of wine, and washed the pills down.

_Bzzz bzzz… ___

__“What the fuck?” Harry slurred, moving his head around quickly in search of the noise. “Oh.”_ _

__He fished his phone out of his pocket. When he pulled it out, he laid his head back down on his propped-up hand, as he didn’t think his head was on straight enough to stand up on its own. His blurry eyes tried to focus through the haze of alcohol and morphine onto the phone screen, which they eventually did. He could barely make it out, but he could see a jumble of familiar numbers._ _

__“Fuck.”_ _


	15. "There's no water inside this swimming pool."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis meets up with Jack against Harry's wishes. He plans on fixing the problems rather than running away from them. However, that doesn't really work out well.

**A CAFÉ IN OXFORD ******

********

****

Louis sat nervously on a lounge chair, hot coffee in his right hand, cigarette in the other. It was a rather cold day in the midst of November, but he couldn’t smoke inside the coffee shop, so outside would have to do.

He saw Jack walking towards him from across the street. Suddenly, he was flushed with anxiety. Louis’ eyes darted onto his cigarette so that he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. 

A part of Louis felt guilty for being there. Though, he couldn’t quite understand why. The past few days had been such a blur, it was hard to understand anything that had gone on.

It was like his hangover hadn’t quite worn off. It’d been about an hour and a half since Louis left Harry’s flat in a dramatic rage. He’d contemplated calling Harry, but it wasn’t worth the energy. He knew what the phone call would entail; a slew of yells and curses that wouldn’t do anybody any good.

Jack neared Louis, hands in his pockets. He gave Louis a thin smile, which was completely erased by the time he’d taken his place in the seat across the table.

For a moment, they both sat in the comfortable silence. Louis still refused to look into Jack’s eyes. He just couldn’t.

“Um,” Jack began, “Louis, I’m really sorry.”

Louis finally looked up into his eyes. It sent a wave of fear down Louis’ spine the moment his eyes met the dark, stone like brown of Jack’s. He still felt somewhat connected with Jack, like there was still something between them. He thought to himself about what he wanted, and for that moment, he knew. He wanted to be happy again, and that meant staying with Jack.

Louis swallowed. “Jack, I know you’re a good guy.”

“No, Louis,” Jack interjected with a hasty defense prepared, “I know what I did was wrong. If you’ll let me, I’d just like to get it all out. Is that okay?”

Louis blinked a couple times. “Sure.” He said, sitting back in his chair and taking a long drag of his cigarette, the hot tobacco hitting his fingers as the paper burned closer down to the filter.

Jack let out a frightened breath. Louis could tell that he had been thinking about what to say, and that gave some sort of life back into Louis’ dying heart. 

“You are one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, Louis.” Jack began, his hands clasped together on the small round table. “And I feel like I’ve taken great advantage of what that- of how kind and forgiving you are. I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”  
“That’s okay,” Louis smiled, “We all fuck up once or twice.”

Jack shook his head, “See? You have such a kind and forgiving heart. You’re already prepared to forgive me, which I don’t think you should.”

Louis suddenly felt comfort. Hearing Jack apologize was the closure he truly needed. For a moment, he wasn’t picturing Harry. He had forgotten about the old cologne, the songs, the problems, all of it was gone for a moment. For once, Louis let himself feel love for someone other than Harry, and it felt kinda nice. “I’m ready.”

Somewhat surprised, Jack took Louis’ hand into his. “For what?”

Louis was grinning from ear to ear. He put his cigarette out, freeing his hand to cover Jack’s. “I’m ready to have a serious relationship with you, Jack.”

God, it felt weird. It felt so odd to say those words to somebody else. With Harry, it all just sort of, happened. Yes, this felt rather forced, and more of a decision than it was with Harry. But it lifted a small weight off of Louis’ shoulders. It was like taking a long stride towards the future. He was ready.

Jack clutched onto Louis’ hands. “Okay! Okay, I’m ready too.” They both smiled widely at each other. “You know,” Jack shook his head, “I really thought this was it. For a moment, I thought me and you were history. But now I can swear to you, Louis, everything that happened between me and Harry is over now. It’s just you and I.” 

“What?”

“Louis,” Jack held on tighter, “It was all a mistake. I’ll never talk to him again. I’m so, so sorry. “

“No,” Louis yanked his hands away, “Harry? What the fuck?”

Jack’s eyes widened. He’d obviously misread the problem at hand. “Louis, I thought- I thought you knew. I thought that’s what this-”

Louis jumped up out of his chair. He was incredibly furious. He didn’t have time to think, only time to grab his jacket and storm off. He didn’t look as he crossed the street, he just went. The cars could have collided into his body if they wanted to. He felt like damaged goods either way.

He’d walked about a mile away from the café before he stopped to call for an Uber. He was shaking in his jacket, barely able to focus on his phone. He had his finger set and ready to call the service, but changed his mind. He called Harry.

As the phone dialed, he thought about everything. He wondered why Harry didn’t say anything. I mean, he’d told Louis not to see Jack anymore, but Louis had no idea. He had no idea that Harry was another part of the story. That Harry was also being damaged along with himself. 

It went straight to voicemail. Louis was quite angry with himself for not knowing sooner. He just wanted to apologize for acting the way he did.

So, instead of going home, Louis ordered for an Uber straight to Harry’s flat. It took about forty-five minutes to reach the tall building that Louis once resided in with Harry. His heart pounded repeatedly in is chest. His feet clapped against the cement stairs as he ran up towards the top floor.

His fist clamored at the door. “Harry, open up.”

Nothing.

“Harry, please. I just want to apologize.”

Silence.

“Uggh,” Louis grunted. He rested against the wall beside the door, sliding down so that he was sitting beside it. 

He had decided to wait until Harry returned home. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until he’d apologized. Apologized about Jack, about the vomit covered clothing that he’d left, about the harsh words. He just wanted to say he was sorry.

His phone buzzed viciously in his coat pocket. He eagerly removed it, answering without even looking at the contact. “Hello?”

“Yes,” A woman answered, “Is this Louis Tomlinson?”

The voice was familiar. It wasn’t Harry, though, so he sighed to himself. “Yes, this is.”

“Hi, we have you as Harry Styles’ emergency contact. Is that correct?”

Louis gulped. A dreadful terror took over his body. This was all too familiar. 

“Where is he? What’s wrong?” He panicked into the phone.

The next few words were ones he’d heard before. Hearing them for a second time was like being stabbed for the second time in the same, festering spot. His stomach boiled with horror. His face bloomed with a red hot flood. 

"He has been admitted into Saint John's hospital in Vauxhall, if you could please make it down here as soon as possible."


	16. Just Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis rushes to the hospital. It's a little too familiar to him, but it still hurts just the same.

The cell phone in Louis’ hand slipped through his fingers and onto the floor. He could feel his heartbeat in his mouth. The world had suddenly slapped him with an icy breeze that could only be related to guilt. With quaking fingers, he knelt down and whisked the phone back into his hands, sliding it into his pockets.

He ran fast, dodging random persons as he fought his way down the hall. His feet slapped each step as he ran down the stairs. While running, he quickly ordered an Uber that was destined to arrive at his location in three minutes.

Those three minutes felt like an enormous eternity to Louis. His eyes swelled with tears as his chest bounced up and down, searching for a breath of relief that never came. He raised his right hand to his face, rubbing at his cheeks in desperation.

He’d been in this state before, but never this guilty. Yes, he’d felt responsible for most of Harry’s drug induced incidents, but the incredible guilt that came along with this one overtook the pain that the others had brought him.

A small black car pulled up to the sidewalk in front of Harry’s apartment complex. Louis frantically tore the door open, landing forcefully on the seat. His red eyes looked up at the driver, who was staring back at him. 

“Hey, aren’t you that guy from One Direction?” The older woman in the driver’s seat asked.

Louis glared back at her. “Drive, please?”

She turned back around and began to drive. 

Louis bit at his finger nails for the entire drive. The hospital was about thirty minutes away, but Louis could swear it was three hours that he spent in that fucking Uber car.

All he could do was think about Harry. His mind was like an old photo album, flipping through both happy and horrendous memories that had been etched in his memory. On one page, he saw Harry from Christmas Eve, about five years prior. Harry was smiling brightly, handing a badly wrapped present towards Louis. 

The next page was Harry covered in his own vomit on their brand new white sheets. He remembered crying as he put their sheets into the washer, hoping it would remove the stains.

The next page was a glimpse at the future, where Louis was holding Harry’s hand while the machine beeped a last beep. 

Louis’ breath hitched. He didn’t notice that he’d been crying, but by the dried tears on his cheeks, he’d been crying for a while. He wiped the salty drops from his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket. It smelled like Harry. It was Harry’s. This made him cry a little more.  
The car came to rough halt. The woman shot an unforgiving look towards Louis.

“You can get out’ me car now.”

Louis sniffled. He ripped some cash from his pocket and slammed it on the seat as he removed himself from the vehicle. 

He ran fast, a violent fire burning deep within his stomach. He went through the front desk while panting heavily, searching for the words through his mess of thoughts.

Finally, he reached Harry. The light brown door swung open, revealing a limp and unconscious body under layers of threadbare blankets. A nurse stood by Harry’s side, scribbling notes down onto a metal clipboard. She looked up at Louis, giving him a warm grin.

“Louis?” She asked.

He nodded, twitching a corner of his mouth upwards in an attempt to smile.

She walked over towards him. “How are you doing?”

He shook his head at her. “You shouldn’t care how I’m doing. How is he?”

Hurt, she looked down at the clipboard.

“He’s not doing very well, Mr. Tomlinson.”

Louis began crumbling. His lips quivered uncontrollably as his eyes flooded with a sting of tears. 

“Morphine,” the nurse continued, “And alcohol, we believe. He was in and out of consciousness when we arrived at the apartment. He was in a coma by the time he was put into this bed.”

“No,” Louis shook his head, “Not again, Harry.” He stared at Harry’s nearly lifeless body. 

He could see Harry turning his head, opening his eyes, reaching for Louis with a real smile. But it wasn’t real. 

“It’s my fault,” Louis cried softly, eyes stuck on Harry.

“Drug abuse is a very heavy subject. There’s not a lot you can do unless the user is willing to change their behavior. You did the best you could, Louis. Being here is a great start.”

“A great start?” Louis barked. “I started years ago with this shit. I asked him to go see a god damn therapist. I- I begged him.”

The nurse put her hand on Louis’ back, only to have her hand slapped away. Louis pressed his cold hands to her chest and shoved her, causing her small frame to slam against the cupboards behind her. 

“Sir, please calm down.”

Louis turned to her, his eyes bloodshot with a mix of anger and depression. He shook his head and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry”.

She simply nodded back at him before quietly leaving the room.

A bitter silence filled the air like a thick layer of fog on an open field. 

Louis walked solemnly towards Harry. The younger boy’s skin was white as an eggshell. His once red and lustful lips were now dry and cracked. He seemed twenty years older than he had earlier that morning. 

Louis put his cold hand up to Harry’s pale fingers. He traced them with his own, feeling every nook and cranny as if Harry was an intricate sculpture. Harry was almost lifeless. It wouldn’t have shocked Louis if Harry really was dead on that hospital bed. 

“I promise, Harry,” Louis whispered, “This is the last time you’ll be here.”

Pulling up a chair, Louis sat down close by Harry’s side.

“I swear, if you come back from this,” Louis swallowed a heavy ball of tears, “I won’t leave your side. I’ll stay here with you, I’ll go to the appointments, I’ll make sure you get better, just- please, don’t let this be the end. Just hold on.”

Harry didn’t respond. Louis knew that Harry wouldn’t, but he hoped that Harry would say something. But he said nothing. He didn’t blink, he didn’t nod, he didn’t even breathe. 

The next few hours were a collaboration of needles and beeps. It was all a dizzy haze to Louis, whom refused to leave the seat or even move it further from Harry. He refused to leave. Not again. Never.


	17. Stuck and Running From the Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up, giving those around him a glimpse of hope that they hadn't seen for a while. Funny how things can change so fast.

Harry’s eyes fluttered open slowly, the light coming in through blurred lines of color. His head felt heavy, a dull ache at the back of his brain. Looking down at himself, he made the sudden realization that yes; he was in a hospital bed. There were tubes sprouting from his arms and machines calling out beep after beep. Thankfully, he was alive. 

A small woman scurried over to him. He smiled, realizing it was his mother. She sent a grin back his way. 

“Morning, sleepy head.”

Harry smiled, only to have it cut off by a darting pain in his head. He sent a hand up to his head, only to realize that he had very little energy. The small act drained him. He looked back over to his mum, who was resting her hand on his thigh. 

“You get some sleep, darling. I’ll let them know you’re awake.”

So, he let his head sink back into the scratchy pillow underneath him. The bed was cozy and warm, yet his body still felt like it had just been taken out of a freezer. Stiff, brittle, and aching, he shut his eyes.

Though he was exhausted, sleep didn’t find him. There were small whispers occurring inside the room that kept Harry listening. One voice was his mother, the other sounded a lot like Jeffery, Harry’s manager.

“We just gotta get things going. It’s been weeks, people are worrying.” The man sharply whispered towards Anne, who responded in a hushed tone.

“But my boy, he’s _sick _.” Anne worried. “We can’t put him right back to work.”__

____

Jeffery laughed, “He won’t feel much pain. The boy’s got enough money to keep himself pain free for months after this. He’ll be high as a kite, painless.”

Anne shuddered at the rough phrase. She in no way wanted her baby to be “high as a kite”. This was out of her control, however, as Harry had signed a contract that had lots of funny details in small writing. Harry wasn’t under her control at all anymore, which was something Anne still struggled with.

“Will you at least make sure he’s getting help?” Anne fought back, crying shamefully in front of the business man. 

He smiled at Anne evilly, “He’ll be perfectly fine in our hands, Mrs. Styles.”

Harry found his mind wandering off. He was in a bit of a dreamy haze, coming in and out of consciousness with his eyes closed.  
His mind woke up to a sweet, soft, gentle voice. He recognized it in an instant. It was a voice Harry really, truly missed. A voice he hadn’t heard for years. 

Soon, he felt the warm hand touch his. It gave Harry the same comfort as a child’s security blanket. His mind was a bouquet of pink flowers at the sensation. 

“For your eyes only,” Louis sang in a whisper, “I show you my heart.” 

Harry could feel himself smiling. He couldn’t help it, he was in love. Harry then realized how in love he was. And he always had been. It never went away, the love for Louis. In that moment, he finally let himself feel. The morphine was out of his system, as well as the alcohol and damaging thoughts. Louis was there, with him. His chest felt warm for the first time since being placed in the hospital bed.

“For when you’re lonely,” Louis continued, “And forget who you are.” 

Louis’ fingers danced on the top of Harry’s hand. They traced circles on the tender skin that was now full of color compared to the dull white it was at the beginning of the overdose.

Louis cleared his throat. “I would finish it, but you know I’m shit at the high notes.” He said, thinking Harry couldn’t hear him. Harry recognized this, and took it in immediately. Louis was there, and it seemed like it wasn’t the first time Louis had visited. Harry could feel it. For the first time in a long time, Harry knew that Louis loved him too.

Harry could feel his mind drifting off into a dreamy state again. He so badly wanted to let Louis know the love and appreciation he had. So, he garnered all his energy, and muttered what he could.

“Please finish it…”

Louis’ eyes widened. Harry was speaking. Not just a jumble of gibberish words, either. Harry spoke to him completely. A ray of hope beamed through Louis’ eyes, as he had some sort of sign that Harry was going to be okay.

So, he finished the tune. To be honest with himself, it was great. It sounded better than it ever did on stage, and maybe that was because he truly felt and meant the words spilling off his tongue in a beautiful melody of notes.

With his hand entwined in Louis’, Harry squeezed. He used all of the energy he had to hold tightly onto Louis. He held Louis’ hand with a tight grip, because he didn’t know when he’d have the opportunity again.

Louis smiled down at his fingers. There were strong craters surrounding Harry’s fingers due to how tight the hold was. He felt it slowly loosen as Harry slipped into a restful sleep.  


Before leaving the room, Louis looked back, smiling with a pure cheerfulness. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he loved Harry. And he wasn’t going to let him go this time. Even as Louis drove home, he reflected on the things he could do better this time. The publicity stunts would come to an end. Even if it meant putting his career on hold, he would do it. It had seemed that both of them had died from the mess. Louis wasn’t the same, and neither was Harry. So, with all his heart, Louis vowed to give Harry his all. Anything to bring Harry back to life.

Blissful, Louis pranced back into the hospital the next morning. In his right hand, a warm coffee from the nearest Starbucks. In his left, a chocolate croissant; warm, like Harry liked it. His feet clicked up the stairs as he raced eagerly towards his love’s door.

He pushed the door open gracefully, poking his head around it to make sure he wasn’t disturbing anything, only to find a vacant room.

Louis’ heart jumped. Harry had been relocated, indicating that he was doing much, much better. A nurse passed by, giving Louis the chance to find where Harry had gone.

“Excuse me,” Louis placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “What room has Harry Styles moved to?”

“Harry Styles? Oh, sweetie, he left early this morning,” She said, turning her head and walking further down the hall.

Louis froze. He quickly rushed to fetch his phone from his pocket, feeling his fingers shake from the upcoming anxiety. 

His heart slowly broke about sixteen times that day. Each phone call went unanswered; just like he remembered. The voicemail was eerily comforting, though. Hearing Harry speak was like having a blanket put over your head after a long walk in the snow.

Desperate, Louis raced over to Holmes Chapel. 

He nervously pressed the white doorbell on the side of Harry’s childhood home.

Anne opened the door, looking quite disheveled. She had obviously been crying by the bags and tears under her eyes. 

Louis immediately took her into his arms. He knew all too well the shit Anne had been put through. Not only did she have to watch her baby overdose, but she had to witness it three times. 

She let Louis into the home. She offered him a cup of tea, only to be turned down.

“Here,” Louis pulled out a chair from the dining table, “Sit. I’ll fix you something.”  
Of course, Anne fought it. But eventually, Louis got her in the seat with a blanket over her shoulders. He set a hot cup of tea down in front of her, which she just stared at for a moment. It was evident that she hadn’t slept much in the recent days.

“Where is he?” Louis asked softly.

Anne looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Japan.”

Louis turned his head away, biting his lip heatedly. He too could feel the tears swelling up in his eyes. Again, they’d torn Harry away from what he truly needed, just to make a buck.

Frightened, Anne began shaking. “They told me he’s locked in the contract. They told me that for what, the twentieth time? I get it, he signed his name when he was sixteen, and again as an adult, but really? Do these people have no common decency to care for the well beings of these people?” She was frantically spewing off words so fast that they all melded into one jumble of cries. 

Louis rushed next to her, holding her the best he could. He held her as tightly as Harry had held onto him just one night before.

“They’ve got him on it again,” Anne exclaimed, “They gave him a big huge prescription for the shit that got him into the hospital.”

Too flushed with rage, Louis kept his mouth shut. He knew any more stimulation would make Anne explode. He didn’t have the heart to break her with his own damaging thoughts. So, he bit his lip, and clutched onto the soft blanket wrapped around Anne’s shoulders, and prayed that Harry would be okay.


	18. If You Only Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis struggles to stay sane after the incident. Harry is impossible to get ahold of. However, in this lifestyle, _the show must go on. ___

The toes of Louis’ Vans bounced rapidly up and down as he nervously tapped his feet on the floor of the stage. He was waiting patiently, or trying to wait patiently, for the cue to go on stage and perform his latest tunes: “Miss You” and “Just Like You”.

It’d been a few weeks since he’d performed. His nerves were getting the best of him, causing him to twitch and jerk all over the place. He was downing glasses of water, tapping his fingers, and doing a lot of anxious smoking, which only made the jitters worse. 

There was only one distraction great enough to take his mind off of the anxieties of performing; and that was Harry. Being in a band with Harry was the greatest and quickest relief of all time. He would simply turn his head to the side, see Harry, and finally feel as if he’d taken that crucial breath of air. 

He turned his head, only to find nothing beside him. The hope rose and fell in his chest along with his breath. Yet again, he was hoping for things that would never come.

His eyes glanced back down at his fingers. He played with each finger individually, pressing his fingernails down out of restlessness.

“Hey mate!” Liam called, walking up to Louis. 

Surprised, Louis shot up out of his chair. He beamed as he shuffled over to embrace his old friend and bandmate.

“Liam!” Louis shouted, “This is sick mate! What brings you here?”

Liam pulled himself away from Louis, putting his hands in his designer pockets. “I was just passing through the city, saw your name, and made the driver stop immediately! Man, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Just then, two hands grasped at Louis’ shoulders from behind. His heart dropped down to his feet, as his hopefulness took him away again.

His life had become a string of hopefulness that always came crashing down, shattering all over his feet. Yet again, his head had soared up to the ceiling with anticipation of seeing the boy who held his heart with a tight grip; only to be disappointed. Again.

“Louis!” Niall exclaimed, turning Louis around. 

Louis waved his hands frantically out of excitement. No, it wasn’t Harry, but it was Niall!

“Fuck,” He responded, “This is just- Thanks guys.”

Both Liam and Niall gave Louis a worried smile. Louis recognized in an instant that they knew pretty much everything. It warmed his heart, knowing that they made an effort to check in on him. 

“So,” Liam ran a hand through his hair, “How are you doing, mate?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been better.”

The two other boys looked at each other with a knowing look. In fact, the two had been discussing amongst themselves the whole time. 

It wasn’t new; the discussions about Harry’s health. Harry was always being thrown into harmful situations since day one. He began the celebrity life at such an early age that it was almost heartbreaking to watch him struggle with the climb.

Along with worries about Harry came worries about Louis. Louis tended to take it rather hard whenever Harry was going through a phase of drugs or alcohol. It didn’t help that Louis had problems of his own. The two were always going through an obstacle course of publicity stunts and health disasters. Niall and Liam had seen it all firsthand, yet they still didn’t know how to help, though they desperately wanted to. 

Niall let a hand clutch to Louis’ shoulder. Liam took the liberty of moving the fringe out of his face, revealing Louis’ gorgeously deep blue eyes.

“Hey,” Liam said, “You’re gonna do great out there. Any worries, you look off to the right, and we’ll be there, just like old times. Alright?”

The small gesture of affection set Louis’ heart at ease. The sense of familiarity felt warm and easy in his chest. He took a deep breath, smiled at his boys, and began to walk onstage.

The performance went as usual. Fans screamed, Louis sang, and they screamed some more. He even sang a rendition of “Story of My Life,” but left Harry’s part out on purpose, letting the fans sing it. To himself and the boys offstage, it was somewhat obvious as to why he would leave Harry’s part out, but who else would notice something as small as that?

Even as he sang his heart out, something felt off. Harry and Louis had been split up for well over a year. He’d thrown his heartbroken self onto the stage and performed multiple times, and yet he had never felt as defeated as he did now. 

Something was disastrously off. His mind was a crumbled-up mash of lyrics and feelings that you couldn’t glue back together. He struggled to make it through the songs without letting himself go. Each lyric was a picture in the photo album of painful memories. Every word was a pushpin in his heart, stabbing the polaroid memories into his organs.

He looked out at his audience, feeling their eyes kiss him with a tender love. He truly loved his devoted fans. As much as he wanted to stop and fall apart right there and then, he held it together. 

The audience continued to roar as he left the stage. As his feet stepped out of the fan’s view, he collapsed.

Louis fell to his knees. His hands caught his head as the tickling feeling of sadness rushed through his spine. It all climbed up into his head until it had all overflowed onto the stage floor. The black wooden ground was slowly being soaked in Louis’ tears.

Niall and Liam rushed to his side, putting their arms around him. They helped him up to his feet, only to be pushed away by Louis.

“I just,” Louis tried breathing, only to be cut short by the uncontrollable sobs. His stomach lurched with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Looking at each other, Liam and Niall guided Louis into his dressing room.

“Louis, mate, everything’s okay. It’s okay to crumble sometimes. It’s okay.” Liam soothed. 

Louis was sat in a leather chair. He refused to look up. His head stayed permanently hung low, his cheeks too red and soaked for the others to see.

“Liam,” Louis began, his words shaking, “It’s been so hard. Too hard. I don’t know how anyone else could handle this.”

“Oh, it’s a shit show,” Niall declared, bringing over a hot cup of green tea to Louis’ face.

Liam smacked Niall’s shoulder with the back of his hand, to which Niall shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

“Louis,” Niall started in again, “We’ve all been here through it. We’ve all dealt with it in different ways, and it’s been fucking hell to deal with, even for us.”

Liam stood up next to Niall. “Let alone for you. We know. We’ve seen. We’ve sat through the meetings of bullshit and rubbish techniques that we’ve all been put through.”

“I’m so sorry, about all of it.” Louis cried a little harder. Normally, he would force himself into a bathroom and utter harsh words to himself in a mirror, but that wasn’t an option this time around. “Lads, it’s not going well. Nothing is going well, and I don’t know what to do this time." He bellowed, grasping at strands of his hair in his hands with pure frustration, "I mean, I saw him nearly dead, do you understand that? He was pale and dry from his curls down to his toes. I-I don’t know how anyone could take that; seeing the person who means the most on the brink of death. I don’t know how people do it, and I don’t know how he could just leave after doing that to me. After doing that to _Anne _. I mean, she can’t sleep. She can’t even distract herself, because he’s everywhere! I mean fuck! His beautiful fucking face is everywhere you look. You can’t escape him, even when you want to. But- fuck. I don’t want to.”__

__“Mate,” Liam sighed, sending a consoling look to Louis, “You know how it is. It’s not up to him.”_ _

__Louis’ face crinkled into a horrendous mess of furiousness. “Of course, it’s not him! But god forbid Harry gets help, right? God forbid he takes a break and goes to rehab, _right _? Fuck, it’s not his fault, I know, I know… It’s just…” Louis took a deep breath, “It’s too damn hard.”___ _

____Niall looked up from his phone. “Liam- look.”_ _ _ _

____Liam shuffled over, peaking over at Niall’s phone. He looked up at Niall, then back down at the phone. A smile spread wide across his face as he looked over at Louis. He walked over and knelt down beside Louis’ chair._ _ _ _

____“Mate,” He said, “We’re gonna break the rules.”_ _ _ _

____Just then, Niall handed his phone to Louis._ _ _ _

____There was a text from one of their old team members who still had ties with Harry._ _ _ _

____So, Louis hopped on a plane to Las Vegas._ _ _ _


	19. You Bring Me Home

Harry stared at the oddly shaped vase sat in front of him. His eyes seemed to wobble as they gawked at the modern art piece. 

The world had yet again become a fuzzy and distorted mess of colors. Each minute was sixty seconds of confusion. Ever since he’d been removed from the hospital, he had lived a life of orders and tasks that he had no choice but to fulfill. 

It had been a week since the incident. All he could remember was taking a swig from a half empty wine bottle, and waking up to the sound his heartbeat through a machine. Since that moment, he’d been living through a dizzy haze. He’d wake up in a different hotel room each morning. Sometimes with a girl beside him. Then, Jeffery would come in, leading him to his next destination. On the way, he’d swallow a small purple pill. It’d go down smoothly with a small glass of water. Lastly, he’d wake up with a headache in a new room with a new girl with a new destination planned.

This time, there was no girl. He was sat by himself, his legs spread in the silky sheets of his fancy hotel suite. 

Harry’s eyes shifted down to his legs, only to be drawn away by a raised portion of sheets. He raised his eyebrows as he picked it up, giving himself a glimpse of his fully erect penis.

“Huh,” He said to himself, “That’s new.”

Giving himself a shrug, he gently grasped his dick in his hand. He began stroking himself up and down, giving himself the typical hand job he used to give himself as a teen.

Surprisingly, he didn’t ever have a lot of time to jerk himself off. It had become somewhat of a special occasion as a celebrity, as having time to yourself was more of a luxury than a Jacuzzi in your bedroom.

God, he’d forgotten how good masturbation was. His hand knew him better than any woman. It knew when to speed up, when to slow down, when to squeeze a little tighter, and when to release. 

His fist clenched a little tighter as he moved a little faster. He gawked at his hand as he watched it move up and down swiftly. His top teeth pressed into his tongue as he got more and more entranced in the feeling of extreme ecstasy.

An image of Louis popped into his head as it often did as he jerked off. It was an old photo that he had taken of Louis that he remembered well. It was Louis sucking down a milkshake. Harry remembered snapping the picture while Louis sucked. He had made some raunchy remark, to which Louis replied: “Oh? You like it when I suck it like that, Harry?”

Uggh, the thought made Harry’s dick twitch in his hand. Even thinking of Louis saying his name in that context made him crumble to pieces of sexual desire. 

His face began to twist up into a sweaty, crinkly mess as he felt himself stepping closer to the edge. It was such a sweet, sweet spot. It felt rewarding as he rubbed himself quicker. He could hear Louis in the back of his head saying it: 

“Harry… Harry… Harry…”

On the brink of an unbelievable orgasm, Harry let himself moan: “Louis…”

Suddenly, he snapped out of his sex hungry trance. The door was thundering from someone knocking on the other side. 

Begrudgingly, Harry shuffled towards the door, a silk sheet wrapped around his lower half.

He opened the door a crack.

“Not now,” He groaned. His eyes snapped wide open when he recognized that it was him. “Louis?”

Louis’ face stretched into a wide smile. The two looked at each other, grinning at each other stupidly. Louis finally pushed the door open, giving himself room to embrace Harry in a constricting hug.

“I was so worried about you, Haz…”

Harry beamed into Louis’ shoulder as he held him. He’d forgotten how petite Louis was, how soft he felt and how sweet he smelled. It granted Harry an immense feeling of joy to hold the smaller lad in his arms.

They separated a bit, looking into each other’s eyes with pure desire. Harry watched as Louis’ eyes danced back and forth, letting Harry know that he was paying attention to both of his eyes.

“Um,” Louis giggled, looking down at the sheet, which was only holding on by Harry’s solid dick. There was a print of wetness at the tip, indicating that Harry was more than ready to go. “A little excited, are we?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I was alone, you know how it is.”

Louis bit at his lip. It had really been a while since he’d communicated with Harry. God, who knew that simple communication could be such a turn on.

Harry smiled lustfully down at Louis. It was a well-known look that Louis had missed dearly.

Louis glanced down at Harry’s lips, letting his hand come up and twist itself into Harry’s messy bed hair. He knew just what he was doing; driving Harry crazy. His eyes drew themselves slowly back up to Harry’s eyes, tickling them with his gaze. He suddenly wrapped his hands around Harry’s face, pulling him close.

“How are you feeling today?” Louis teased, his lips barely distant from Harry’s.

Harry gulped. “Never been better.”

“Good,” Louis said, yanking Harry’s face into his.

Their lips smacked together, locking like puzzle pieces. They were perfectly glazed with spit, sliding against each other with ease. 

Harry reached down, smacking his large palms against Louis’ enticing ass. He squeezed the plush of Louis’ bum with passion, lifting the smaller boy onto his hips. He carried Louis over to the bed as Louis continued to kiss Harry obsessively. 

Louis was laid on the bed, his legs spread to the sides of Harry’s body. They were small, but just long enough to wrapped around Harry’s slim waist. 

Their faces unglued themselves from each other as Harry let himself kiss fondly at Louis’ neck. His hands worked beneath himself to fiddle with the button of Louis’ black jeans. They were Harry’s favorite pair of pants that Louis owned, as they grasped his favorite corners and edges of Louis' glorious body (specifically the bum region). His nimble fingers pulled the zipper down, and with Louis’ help, the beauteous pants slid off with ease.

“Fuck,” Harry cursed as he stared down at Louis. It had been a long, long time since he’d marveled at Louis’ cock. Harry’s head soon flooded with memories and images of what it felt like to wrap his lips around it. Then he remembered; those didn’t have to be nostalgic memories anymore. Louis was there, solid as a rock right in front of him.

He shuffled down so that he was face to face with Louis’ dick. He reached forward, only to have his hand slapped away. He looked up at Louis with begging puppy eyes, wondering why he’d been stopped.

Louis swiftly stood up. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Louis shoved Harry onto the bed. He seductively climbed on top of Harry, who was staring back at him with wide and wanting eyes. Louis pressed the tip of his penis to Harry’s lips.

Harry desperately opened his mouth. Louis slapped his penis on Harry’s tongue a couple times before shoving himself into Harry’s slick mouth. He began fucking Harry’s mouth, thrusting forward and backward to grant himself more pleasure. 

“Harry,” Louis moaned, “God, it’s been too long.”

Harry spoke the best he could with a dick down his throat, nodding along to agree with Louis. He popped his mouth off of Louis for a moment.

“Can I please, please fuck you?” He begged.

Louis smirked down at Harry, only to frown immediately. 

“Harry, erm,” Louis looked around the room, “There’s no lube.”

Harry’s face exploded in excitement. “Mini fridge!”

Louis, confused, got up for a moment to peak into the mini fridge to find; sure enough; a miniature bottle of lubricant. He excitedly hurried over to the bed, placing the tiny bottle into Harry’s palm with joy.

A vibrant grin spread itself onto Harry’s face, as the act was rather familiar. Louis would scurry over to him stark naked with a bit of lube in his hand. Louis donned the same exact smile that he used to wear during their old sexual rendezvous. It was refreshing, loving, and god damn sexy.

With ease, Harry pressed a line of slick lubricant onto his fingers. He didn’t have to look to know that Louis was watching his every move. Purposefully, Harry rubbed his fingers together, showing Louis how slippery smooth the complimentary lube was.

Louis slid himself back onto the bed, slithering on top of Harry’s long legs. He let himself straddle Harry, making sure to keep eye contact as he crawled on all fours until he had gotten into the perfect position. He was sat atop Harry, standing on his knees with legs spread over Harry’s groin.

Not saying a word, Louis made it remarkably clear with his eyes of what he wanted Harry to do. It was amazing how bossy Louis could be with his mouth shut.

Harry obligingly reached forward, placing his fingers on the ring of Louis’ ass. He circled his fingers, not pushing in quite yet. He kept circling and circling around the area, teasing Louis with subtle movements.

“Can I?” Harry asked, his eyes looking up at Louis widely.

Louis placed his hand on the side of Harry’s face, letting his fingers glide against the freshly shaven skin. 

“You better.”

Harry took in an excited breath as he let the tip of his finger slide into Louis. It made Louis lurch his head back. The smaller boy began to push down, silently begging for more. Harry gladly obliged, letting his entire finger glide into Louis. He could practically feel it in his dick, imagining what it would feel like to just slide into Louis like that. He wanted it dreadfully bad.

“Mmm, Harry…” Louis moaned, “You’re so much better than I remember.”

He continued to ride on Harry’s finger, pushing deeper and deeper. Harry took this as a sign to slip another finger in, to which Louis stopped moving.

“Did I ask for another? I don’t think I did, Harold.”

Harry pulled his fingers out slowly, “Sorry.”

Louis reached forward, grabbing Harry’s chin between his palm and thumb. 

“I didn’t ask for an apology either, did I?” Louis demanded. Harry shook his head in response. “Now...” Louis giggled wickedly, smirking down at Harry, “You’re gonna fuck me. And when I say _fuck _, I mean that you’re going to fuck me to make up for all this god damn lost time.”__

__Without letting another second pass by, Harry grabbed his dick, sliding it up and down Louis’ hole. He gently pressed in, keeping his eyes locked on Louis._ _

__Louis’ head bent back again as he let out an incredible moan. It seemed to vibrate in his chest. Feeling Harry slip inside of him was like taking a long drink of water after a day at the gym; he could feel every sweet piece of it slipping into him. It filled him up greatly, thick and warm._ _

__With his hands on Louis’ hips, Harry fucked him. He pounded his hips into Louis’ ass with great pleasure, letting his fingers press into the tender skin of Louis’ bum._ _

__Harry was rapidly falling apart beneath Louis. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, eyes staring gleamingly up at the boy above him. His eyes bounced up and down along with Louis’ body as he watched._ _

__He began making sweet little noises with every thrust, opening his mouth a little more each time. His eyebrows rose as his eyes widened._ _

__Watching Louis ride him was the greatest form of entertainment Harry could ask for. Louis’ hair bounced lightly onto his forehead every time he came down onto Harry’s cock. His mouth hung open while the seductive noises rolled off his tongue like silk. He began yelping “Yes” multiple times, looking up at the ceiling with each cry._ _

__Harry could barely take it anymore. If he wasn’t close before, he definitely was now. It was bouncing on the tip of his dick, the feeling becoming more and more intense. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He wanted to fuck Louis for every waking second of his life._ _

__With his hands on either side of Louis’ hips, Harry flipped Louis onto his back on the mattress, towering over the smaller lad. His hands looked massive next to Louis’ small head. Keeping eye contact, Harry pounded into Louis. He took his right hand and grasped at Louis’ thigh, holding it up for a better feeling and _fuck _it worked.___ _

____Harry was very familiar with Louis’ faces during sex. He could read the lad like a book. Louis’ cheeks were rose red, his lips plump from biting. His eyes were wide and seemed to beg Harry for the last few thrusts needed to climax, which was exactly what Harry planned to give him._ _ _ _

____Taking his hand off of the older lad’s leg, Harry gently took Louis’ long dick. He held it gently but firmly in his hand._ _ _ _

____Louis let out a high pitch moan as Harry began to jerk him off while striking that sweet spot inside of him. Harry began moving faster, thrusting as fast as he was moving his hand._ _ _ _

____Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Louis sat up quickly, looking past Harry at the door._ _ _ _

____“H-Harry, door…” Louis said through breathy pants of desire. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders, feeling too weak to stay up by himself. He had no control. Harry was moving just right, hitting the perfect spot with wonderful timing, moving his hand in a fantastic motion. Getting scarily close to his climax, Louis yelped: “Harry!”_ _ _ _

____Harry grabbed onto the back of Louis’ head with his hand. Louis pulled back, letting his nose brush against Harry’s as their faces met._ _ _ _

____“They don’t matter,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss against Louis’ tender lips._ _ _ _

____For a moment, Harry’s eyes spoke a thousand words. They stared deeply into Louis’. His eyelids came crashing down for a moment as pommeled into Louis a little softer, but quicker. As he came sweetly inside of Louis, he stayed still for a moment, keeping his eyes locked with Louis’._ _ _ _

____At the same time, Louis let his mouth hang open wide, not letting a single sound escape as the orgasm flushed over his whole body. His dick twitched in Harry’s hand as he came hotly over Harry’s knuckles._ _ _ _

____Harry collapsed, exhausted next to Louis. He turned his head to find Louis staring back at him. He lifted a hand up to touch Louis’ cheek.  
Louis inched over closer to Harry, letting his legs dangle on top of Harry’s and resting his head on the younger boy’s chest._ _ _ _

____“You bring me home.”_ _ _ _


End file.
